For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been in an ‘Ugh Mood.’ Anyone who’s ever been in that state of mind knows exactly what I am talking about. I don’t feel like doing anything, everything becomes a mission, even picking out an outfit to wear for an outing with the girls. And that, for me, if huge because there’s nothing I love more than clothing and getting all dressed up. For me, one of the ways that work best to snap out of such a rotten mood is to re-organize my closet. I don’t know why, you would think an ‘ugh’ mood would make me not want to do that, but it does. So there I was on a Sunday night organizing my shoes by heel heights and styles, as well as removing and storing all my summer clothing and keeping only the winter ones. By the time I was done, I wasn’t any better off than when I started; my mood was as flat as last week’s Pepsi. I went into my accessories bin and just as I began to organize, I found a letter that was folded more times than needed. I opened it believing it to be an old article I had written and tried to forget as I had done so often before. But it wasn’t an article; it was a love letter that Khaled had written to me years ago; four years ago to be exact. It was three pages long, front and back, and contained recollections of all of our fondest memories. When we met; when he called and, just to annoy me, the way he would constantly, say one word and hang up; the time he introduced me to what is now my favorite coffee drink, an iced caramel macchiato. But that wasn’t all. He reminded me of how much he loved me; how he promised to do anything and everything for me, if only I considered giving him a chance at us having a relationship. Reading that letter, I felt a part of my soul crumble.
I hadn’t heard from Khaled in a while…since we had our falling out. I did not want nor could I share my feelings and thoughts with my readers and so, didn’t write about it, hence the reason many of you who have been emailing me have been wondering about what ever happen to “Laurence of Arabia.” I couldn’t, it was too painful. I wanted to write about any other event of the week but not of any of the memories and feelings I had of him that permeated my daily life. Yet the letter served as sort of a slap in the face; an awakening to the feelings I had buried away in that bin, with that letter.
I wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn’t. The feelings I felt since our separation had been so very hurtful; things had been said that cannot be unsaid. You see, Khaled and I had met over six months ago at Jamba Juice where he waited for me with a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice and that comforting smile he wore best. We decided to take a drive–a long one–one that found us near Kankakee, about an hour’s drive from my house. He parked his Rover and we leaned against the hood just taking in the sun and much needed fresh air. It was here that we got into the conversation yet again about our future together. If the relationship was ever going to progress and possibly lead to the two of us getting married. I wasn’t interested in having that conversation at that moment because I knew the answer would be the same as always: No. But Khaled insisted we speak about it and, considering that he was my ride home, I had no other choice but to indulge him. I didn’t understand what brought about this conversation and Khaled’s intense emotions that is, until he told me about being offered a position with a law firm in Spain–the very same one that his uncle had worked for over six years. I was of course shocked, floored, bewildered, I would be losing my best friend to a foreign country he would in time, undoubtedly call home. The thought did make me consider a life together if only to keep him in mine, and yet another part of me considered what ‘forever’ would be with a man I didn’t love. And so I declined his offer which, to my confusion, fired him up in a way I had never seen. The remainder of his glass of juice found its way across the field where we were parked and words were exchanged that should never have been said, by neither of us. A heated quarrel ensued resulting in me refusing to enter his car and walking on the side of a long remote road that would otherwise be picturesque if not for the fiery exchange between Khaled and me. I walked for at least fifteen minutes with Khaled slowly driving alongside me insisting that I get into the car.
“You’re fucking insane if you think you’re walking all the way home! Get in the car!” he ordered.
I knew that he was right. I could never make the walk and I knew it. But I also knew I didn’t want to be in the car with him, but he was my ride. Although I could have called someone else to pick me up, a part of me wanted to hold on to him as long as I could and I definitely didn’t want to end things on such a sour note as it was at that moment. We weren’t friends there on that road, we were two people lost in limbo, alone and hurt.
Khaled eventually pulled to the side of the road, got out of his car and insisted I get in so that he could take me home. He angrily added, “Trust me I know you don’t want to see me anymore, and I feel the same. I’ll drop you home and that’ll be it!” His last remark fueled my anger even more. It was even more of a reason for me not to want to get into his car, and my hurt pride found me hurl a retort “Good! I want you completely out of my life. You’re nothing but a headache!”
I have regretted that statement ever since. He wasn’t a headache. He was hurt and I was the cause of it. This situation was entirely my fault. I should have cut Khaled out of my life the moment his feelings for me grew deeper than what I could reciprocate. But I enjoyed his friendship too much and stubbornly clung to him not considering what I was doing to him.
More daggers were thrown and both our hearts were pierced deeply enough to walk away from one another forever. Khaled went his way and I went mine. He didn’t call me, text, nor emailed me. My pride didn’t allow me to reach out for him again and it wasn’t until finding this letter that thoughts of him–the ones that I had buried completely hoping never to look back– had suddenly fallen on me like an avalanche.
I was now inundated with thoughts of Khaled and as much as I wanted to reach out to him, I couldn’t and so today, I am writing this post instead. I know that he will read it. I also know that he is now engaged to be married which means that he is forever out of my life. I understand and acknowledge that. This is not just a log entry written hoping he will come back to me, but rather a public apology for the hurt I brought on to a man who has been nothing but good to me; a man who was there for me through thick and thin; someone who took my feelings into consideration above his own, something I selfishly neglected to do for him. I’m so very sorry for the pain I caused you and I don’t expect you to forgive or even acknowledge this act of contrition , but since I know that you read my entries as you have always done from day 1, I want you to know that I feel like a complete and total shit for what I did to you. I was selfish, unfeeling at times, and completely blind to the pain you went through because of me.
I wish the next chapter of your life be filled with nothing less than every happiness life has to offer because you truly deserve it. Goodbye!