A letter to him- how it feels to be the other woman:

Hey there, how has it been? I haven’t seen you since last summer, well since the first time we meet in person. I almost forgot about you but I read an article with the title “to the girl who’s boyfriend I slept with” and I remembered you. Ironically, you also liked a post by one of my sisters today and I saw it right after I finished the article in tears. They weren’t tears of sadness nor were they tears of joy. They were tears of understanding how it feels to be “the other woman”. I checked your facebook and it seems like you broke up with your then girlfriend and that makes me happy because I know she is better off without someone like you, someone who cheats.

Do you remember that night because I do, vividly! It was the first night of midsummer’s and also the first night I went out without my headscarf. You were in town for a fraternity brothers wedding and staying at a hotel near the corner. We meet up at No3 and I remember the look on your face when you saw me. I’ve seen that look not by many men, tat look of being in “aww” of someone. You kissed my cheek and I bought you a drink, whiskey and gingerale. Yeah, I still remember. We sat in one of the booths and talked for a while then went to meet up with my friends at trinity. You left me there but at the door whispered you’d see me later that night.

Come 2 am, after the bars closed, I texted you to see where you were. I knew the consequences of doing so and I evaluated the decision but I still went through with it. You showed up, half tipsy, still with that look in your eye. We sat in the living room and talked for about an hour and you opened up about your fears and intimate thoughts and I just sat there and listened. Then it happened. I had my head tilted laying on one of the pillows, and you kissed me. I knew it was going to happen; yet I was still surprised by it. We moved into my bedroom and things escalated from there. I knew you had a girlfriend of 3 years and I felt no guilt. But I could tell. I could tell by the way you were. You were used to making love not fucking and I can tell, even from the first kiss. We finished, you kissed me one last time and left. I haven’t seen you since.

But that was that and this is now. I know I am just as equal to blame as you are, but for some reason im upset with you for doing it. I thought you were a better man. I hate the fact that im that person who made you cheat and I know if it was someone else you wouldn’t have. It was nice to be wanted for a bit but it’s something I hope I never do again.

Friday night thoughts:

I’m a dreamer and dreamers usually sleep unsatisfied with life.  I sleep unsatisfied with myself because im never going to be good enough. No im not playing the victim role again, im just stating the truth. I don’t get it. My whole life I was told that women hold the key to sex, women hold the key to relationships, women hold the keys period. How is it that this has all proved to be false? Our fathers usually try and protect us from those who want to date and take advantage of us and this becomes so normalized in our minds that we think everyone wants to date us or take advantage of us where in reality this isn’t true. We are not sexually desired by everyone and we aren’t wanted by everyone. So why do we put this idea in the minds of little girls? Why do we set it to be the norm to be wanted and desired by everyone where in reality it is not the norm and maybe even further away from the norm then it is close to it. Im just rambling now but think about it. Also, another point that needs to e made, what happens when you don’t fit into the role you are brought up to believe you should fill aka the sexual desire of every male an female alike? Do you know how depressing it is to realize that you are in fact not this sexy mystical creature your male family members have brought you up to believe? I read somewhere that some women envy other women who get raped because it means they were more desired. One, that is too fucked up to comment on! Two, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD? When and why is it all a competition for the affection and attention of males? How pathetically stupid is that? I admit, I too have days where I dress for men and do things to impress men but its usually not the case but the fact that some days I do do that is SAD!!! What makes men so great anyways? Is it an evolutionary thing where we want to be wanted so we can find mates and create little humans? Or is it just society fucking us over again? Anyways, im rambling again

That summer:

I still remember that summer well, really well. I was 17, ambitious, alive and young. The world was my “oyster” as they say. I was getting ready to move back to the US after being away for 12 years and I was anything but ready. However, knowing myself, knowing me, I could take on anything thrown at me, I knew id be ready when the time came. That “time” was July 25th 2010, the day I was supposed to leave home and start my journey into adulthood. Earlier that year, I was accepted into the University of Virginia as part of the incoming class of the fall term of 2010 and I was ecstatic. Lena at the time was an undergrad at Duke and I was ready to make my parents proud like she had done before. “UVa, huh!” I thought to myself. It was funny, because a year before I had no idea UVa existed or knew anything regarding it. At first my dream school was Chapel Hill, then that changed to Georgetown, then finally into Wake Forest. I got rejected by two of the three and waitlisted at one. It wasn’t easy, I tell you. It really was not. Believing you belonged somewhere and having them tell you that you did not, is difficult.

I remember that summer well because on days like this, where I am feeling lost and confused, I remember the 17 year old me. The one that was going to become an international humanitarian lawyer, and was going to save the world from itself. I remember her. She was kind, naive, and healthy: three things I am not. She was ready for it all. She was everything I hope I can one day become. But life, as we know, is full of surprises. I went to college in august and began my journey to where I am at today: Asheville, NC. So how did I get here? How did life change 180 degrees? How did I end up lost and confused sitting on my dorm room bed at 21 contemplating taking some more time off school? Well, that is for me to figure out and make a beautiful memoir out of someday, and for you lovelies to stay tuned to. As for now, stay beautiful!

Just know..

It took all my strength. Scratch that, it’s taking all my strength! I wake up with headache and some back pain. I didn’t sleep well last night and the nightmares didn’t really help. Im sweating while crying my eyes out because I watched her die again and again and there was blood everywhere. Im safe now, I think. Back to reality. I try to explain it to people but no one seems to understand what im going through. I don’t seem to understand what im going through and that is the toughest part. I reach an arm out for help but no one seems to grab or hold on to it. Im all alone at the bottom of this barrel and it is really sad. It’s dark down here. REALLY fucking dark yet I can seem to see everything, yet not so clearly. Im  frustrated, you know. Im down, you know. And im hurting, you know. But do you really know or understand anything im going through? I like the highs but not the lows. I like the ups but not the downs. I come crashing down and apart every few days and its just tiring. Do you think he will ever understand? I try to hide from them sometimes behind a bunch of smiles and sex stories but some of them see through. However, they don’t know what to do when im in this state. Honestly, I don’t know what to do when im in this state either. A bottle of pills seem like a good answer but life is so sweet sometimes that I don’t want to go just yet. I need a break. That is what I need, but im afraid to be alone especially when it’s light out. Im afraid someone might see me or watch me thinking and just figure me all out. It wont be nice if that happens. It wont be nice at all.

I know he barely knows me but I want to tell him that “tonight im yours, just know, anything im yours”. I need to get over the one that got away and I think he might be able to help. I hate rejections. I hate feeling unwanted and unneeded so I push myself and embed myself in everyone’s lives, especially his. He is beautiful and not as shallow as the rest of the people im around. Or atleast I hope. I just want him to know this. To know me. To understand me and contribute to this “friendship” as much as I am. Ugh.

I can still smell him on some of my clothes and it is this bittersweet feeling of always being reminded of him. I don’t trust men very easily but I trusted him. He IS the one that got away. But he really didn’t get away, he went away. He picked to leave. He picked her over me yet again. It seems like they always do. Im always second best. I have a lot of school work to be doing but I cant help but sit here and write how about how much I miss him. I still sing along to his music religiously and I watch old videos wishing I can go back and do things differently. If only I waited for him. If I only I waited to make love to only him. If only I waited. My friends ask me all the time what the root of all my demons is and it is You. You detached my heart and crumbled it to unfixable pieces. Sometimes I wish I could pick up the phone and just call you to see how your doing but I know I cant. You don’t want to speak to me. Ugh, it just seems I like I will always be second best to you and to everyone and I don’t know how to change that. Maybe if I stop acting so pathetic and play the role of the victim all the time then I might be someone’s first choice. But what can I do, I was brought up on stories and fairytales where the prince always came to the rescue. I guess those were lies as well, just like almost everything I know to be true might be a lie.

No I don’t, no I don’t, no I don’t…

I don’t want anyone else but you, darling, please, don’t be like the rest. Don’t force me to change. Don’t force me to be like her or her or the other one. PLEASE! I am me and that is all I could be. So accept me as I come, as I am. I’m loud, friendly and outgoing and obnoxious at times. I have my scars and faults too. I have a past and a lot of lovers to compare to. But please, all I want is you. Let me rephrase this and go on a little tangent: all I want is to be happy and I think you might be able to do that. I think. Maybe? Maybe not. You seem useless like the rest. But can I blame you? you’re a product of your culture and misogynistic society. But darling here is something you should know:

   Beauty is not skin deep. Maybe sometimes it is but that is only if you are a shallow ass that can’t see beyond sizes and waistlines. Beauty is what lies within, and  if you dare tell me I am not beautiful because im not a size 2-4-6, I will take your hands and let you feel my curves until you understand that beauty can come in different shapes and sizes. I will borrow your ear and tell you all the beautiful things about me.  I will teach you how someone you think is “fat” can be graceful and sexy. I will teach you what beauty means. Just remember darling, you don’t know me, or anything i’ve been through. You don’t know what I go through every fucking day just to get out of bed and function. You dont know me, so before you judge me based on my appearance, I dare you to try and get to know me then I dare you call me unattractive. Lastly darling, before you judge the next girl you end up fucking, just remember she deserves respect. And no she wont “ fuck just about anyone!” because she slept with you. Feel special that she allowed you to touch her, to see her, to taste her, even though you are a worthless piece of nothing.


Although I’ve tried, im still hung up on past events. I try to move on, get on with my life. But some afternoons when im just laying there with nothing but thinking to do, I cant help but think about him and the other him and the other one too. All the possibilities that could have come out of being with these men. Not just being being but “being” with them; all of the physical, emotional and psychological aspects of myself. I am longing for an explanation from one of them, an apology from the other and just a decent goodbye from the last of the trio. Sometimes I crave from each of them, in a different sweet way ofcourse. It’s like, I have a sweet tooth for their affection, like this craving for more of their fake intimacy, or was it my fake intimacy that broke each of them apart? I just, ugh, I just can’t let myself open up. But then I do open up and it falls into pieces. Disastrous small shattered glass pieces, you know they type you really cant put back together.

You know, I found a boy, a great gem he is, but I just cant find the strength or what ever it takes to open up to him. Even if I did I might not be good enough for his beautiful eyes. I try to find my lost pieces in other men, in their arms and laps, but I cant seem to find anything. I want to find something. To find the piece that is missing of the puzzle. Ugh I sound like a cliché again! My god. So moving on. I burnt myself today to remember what physical pain feels like. I haven’t been exposed to it in a awhile. I miss it. It makes me feel alive. And I just remembered I miss one other one. The druggie. The one that I opened up to because I though he’d understand what ive been through with the over doses. But he didn’t. I don’t think many people will really. I just want to strip all my layers and extend my limbs out like a tree and touch everyone with kindness and love. Im not making much sense in my mind right now. I miss her too sometimes. I suppress her, but lately she’s come out to play nice with my new friends. Im sorry if i have smothered you like ive smothered all of them before.