On missing people

"Missing someone isn't about how long it has been since you've last seen them or the amount of time since you've last talked. It's about that very moment when you find yourself doing something and wishing they were right there by your side."

I've read this quote a couple of times before, at very different phases of my life, and I'd always interpret it differently every time. Sometimes I felt that it completely made no sense, other times I knew it was perfectly describing me. I felt I couldn't understand what it implied at times, but I still realized it was too relevant to my life at others. I never really knew if I truly believed in this quote, but it has always been there.

I stumbled upon it again a few days ago, during a phase of my life where too many of the closest people to my heart are not around that much and I'm missing them all. I read it, and found myself coming up with a totally different interpretation for it this time.

The first sentence actually never seemed truer. In the past few months, I've become friends with online people probably more than I have with real life ones. It's not something that odd for me, but it's been excessively happening and some of them are becoming very close to my heart. Observing myself during this past period, I discovered I've actually typed the words "I miss you" to online friends way too much for someone who hasn't even met most of them yet. And that's when I realized how much the first part of the quote made sense, for I currently do miss people whom I haven't seen at all, and there hasn't even been a first time for us to allow us to have a last. So yes, it totally isn't about "how long it has been since you've last seen them".

Some other online friends are just acquaintances whom I haven't been able to stop stalking, but still cannot really be called "friends". I'd feel that there's something wrong when I don't stalk them for too long, and sometimes they're people who don't even know I exist. Surprisingly, I'd often catch myself feeling like missing those people, without really having talked to them before. And so, another new part proved to make sense because it's still not about "the amount of time since you've last talked"; you can miss them without any talking involved, or so proved my creepiness.

Now, having made total sense of the first sentence, I moved on to the second one and had a really hard time trying to accept it. It implied that, somehow, the definition of missing someone lied solely within the idea of not having them around when you do a certain something, which was very, very hard for my mind grasp.

I miss people all the time, but it's never just only about wanting them to be there at a certain place or a certain time. Missing people is much more than that..

I currently miss too many people, and I miss them in many different ways.

I miss hearing the ringing tone next to my ears as I try to call them. I miss getting excited over the fact that they're going to interrupt that tone anytime and their voice would be the first thing I'd hear. I miss standing in front of the mirror, only to watch myself smile as I hear their "Hello!", and looking the other way as soon as they do, so that the only thing I'd be seeing is my made up imaginary image of them around me as we speak.

I miss hearing my phone ringing with their names, and sometimes with the pictures I've assigned to their numbers, knowing I have no time to talk but still choosing to answer the phone. I miss listening to them as they talk about their day in details, wanting to end the conversation because I have so much to do, but still not letting my ears skip a single detail. I miss them beginning a one-hour call with a "Don't worry, I'm going to make this quick!", and ending it with an "I'm sorry it took so long!".

I miss daydreaming about them only to find a random message from them a few minutes later telling me they've been thinking about me. I miss sending them all what I have to say in a long message for when they have the time for it, and watching the 'sent' sign quickly shift into a 'read' one a few seconds later. I miss shortly finding their perfect reply to my words, making me unable to stop rereading them every time I'm done. I miss the excitement of reading their words for the very first time, feeling hungry for more of their words, yet trying to slow myself down as I read because I don't want to experience that feeling of reading their last line.

I miss seeing their name on my Facebook notifications, liking or commenting on what I post. I miss seeing their name in my Twitter interactions tab, retweeting or favoriting my words as soon as I press the tweet button. I miss seeing their name on top of my WhatsApp conversations list, because we never even stop talking to give the chance for their name to move downwards. I miss their out of the blue messages all over the social networks, making my heart dance every time I receive a cute unexpected something from them.

I miss typing their username in the search bar and finding lots of their new words to read. I miss feeling my bedazzlement at the perfection of their words, and I miss how their words inspire me to write more. I miss stalking them every single day, and not even once feeling bored or regretting doing it.

I miss them being the first people to know about my happy news. I miss having them come to my mind first thing in the morning and I miss them being my very last thought before I sleep.

I miss getting excited over the fact that I'm going to see them the next day, whenever we part. I miss counting down the days, the hours and the minutes till a certain event that's related to them. I miss preparing surprises for them and having my mind constantly play imaginary scenes of them upon receiving what I've spent so much time planning to do.

I miss feeling that I might be bothering them with my over-care and wondering how they feel about me, only to find a very random message from them assuring me that I'm very welcomed in their life.

I miss having dreams about them every night, because I've fallen asleep either thinking about or talking with them. I miss waking up the next day to tell them all about the details of how I've seen them during my sleep.

I miss people in these ways, and much more.

I miss people in ways I can't even put into words, that it aches every time I try to write about it.

As much as missing people isn't such a nice thing to feel, it still makes people value those whom they miss more than they normally would. It wouldn't make sense living in this world without often feeling like missing some people. And as much as it hurts while telling someone that you miss them, it definitely makes their day knowing that they do occupy a part of their favorite people's lives this way.

Missing people is both, a beautiful and an ugly phrase. But what I'm very sure of right now is, missing people is never only about wanting them by your side when you're doing something you wish they were doing with you. Missing people is way deeper than that.

I needed a hug

I needed a hug. I needed someone to be there and open their arms for me whenever I need a shoulder to cry on. I needed to feel safe between the arms of someone who wouldn't question my tears, who wouldn't ask for answers that I'm not ready to give. I needed someone to listen to my incomplete, distorted sentences that arise in between the gasps caused by my tears, and still understand every letter of them. I needed someone to comfort me with their words, tell me that it's all going to be okay even if it was the only thing they'd say every time I'm sad. I needed someone to stay with in the dark, in complete silence, because they'd know how much their presence would mean. I needed someone who'd make me feel comfortable crying around them.

I needed someone who'd unleash the issues and insecurities that keep piling up inside me only because they can't find the right person to be discussed with. I needed someone to talk with on the phone when I feel like talking. I needed someone who understands I don't like talking on the phone and text me instead. I needed someone to leave me alone whenever I felt I can't stand neither phones nor texts. I needed someone to understand my introversion, never criticize it, and never try to change anything about it. And I still needed someone to take me out everyday and travel the whole world with me. I needed someone who'd know all about my awkwardness around people and still doesn't make it sound bad. And I still needed someone to tell me I should start learning how to deal with people and stop being awkward around absolutely everyone.

I needed someone to know all about my insecurities yet never change the way they looked at me since the moment we became friends.

I needed someone to point out the defects in me, and help me change them. I needed someone to see the good in me and always point it out without making an arrogant person out of me.

I needed someone to discuss my fears with and ask for their opinion whenever I'm confused, because I'd know they always knew better. I needed someone to help me take decisions and never regret them. I needed someone to tell me what to do whenever I didn't know what to do.

I was looking for a perfect human being, and I wanted them to be mine.

But things just shortly changed..

Things shortly changed after that one night I spent crying in the dark, all by myself, for no reason. In the midst of all my tears, I looked up and found what I was looking for..


I found Him. I found God.


I found Him spending the night with me -when no one else was there-, hearing all my distorted sentences, never leaving the room until I was in deep sleep, and not even leaving then.

I found comfort in Him. I found it easy to discuss my insecurities with Him, without fearing He'd think any less of me, because He's the only one who knew and understood them anyway, whether I pointed them out or not. He didn't push me to talk, and only waited for what I wanted to let out. He listened to me and understood. He even heard my inner thoughts, without wanting me to talk about them out loud. He listened and listened, and when I felt I needed to hear His reply to all what I've said, I opened His Book on a random page, read what my eyes fell on, and immediately felt at peace.

His Book, I realized, could point out all the defects in me and help me change them if I wanted. His Book still pointed out and encouraged me to do all what I was doing well, reminding me that it's always Him who'll help me continue them, so that I'd never get a false sense of achievement and forget it was all thanks to Him. His words only needed someone to open their ears to, and they'd make their way right into their hearts, when they knew the ears truly wanted to listen.

I realized that all what I've always needed, all what I've been looking for in a single person wishing so bad to find them one day, was already all present in Him.

His hug is like no other hug. He hugs me during Sojoud. He allows me to cry on His shoulder down there. He never hugs too hard if I don't feel like wanting to be hugged, but is always there whenever I ask for it. He gives me silent hugs, and He gives me attentively-listening hugs.

He allows me to talk to Him whenever I feel like it, and He has allowed me to write Him a couple of letters before when I felt I wanted to write instead.

He was always there, sending me signs to where I should go whenever I was confused. Offering me Istekhara whenever I wanted His opinion on something, because He knows what I'll never be able to know what He knows, and can perfectly guide me on anything.

He sends me blessings. He throws them my way in the form of people, each of them having a thing of what I need, leaving some of my needs to be fulfilled only by Him, for if we found perfection in His creation, we'll be too occupied and never experience His own perfection that not a single human being can attain.

He has the answers to so many of our needs, He only wants to hear us ask. He loves us, even if it sometimes feels like He's giving us a silent treatment; it'd just be that He's waiting for us to truly turn back to Him. He might sometimes seem harsh, but it'd always turn out that He wants to teach us a certain something from the toughness He put us through. His kindness can never even be compared to anything once He hears the sincerity in our voices, and senses the trust in our hearts. He tests us, often very hard tests, only to strengthen us. He allows us to do anything we choose, but will always be there if we needed him, saving the enjoyment of His closeness to those who truly deserve it.

He is all what I need, all what everyone would probably need. I don't understand why we spend lifetimes making homes out of people and finding comfort in them, when we have Him. The one who'll never, ever leave.

I feel thankful for finding Him every time I turn to Him, even if it has been years since we've last spoken. I feel blessed to have Him as my God, always keeping an eye for me, and never leaving my side.

ربنا يخليك ليا يارب :) الحمد لله على نعمة وجودك

A letter from me to you

Dear you,

I haven't written to you -or about you- since so long, thinking that I've already gotten you off my mind a couple of months ago, but it turned out to not be very true.

I'm not really sure how I currently feel about you, but I've just experienced one of those moments when I felt I really needed to have you by my side. I really needed to send you a WhatsApp message at this very moment telling you how thankful I am for God having sent you my way, imagining you in my head waking up to read it first thing in the morning, brightening up your whole day. I needed to reread our conversation right before we said goodnight, a conversation that didn't feel like we've gotten used to it, yet it's the same thing we do everyday. A conversation where my heart skipped a beat every time I noticed a message being typed, wondering what could it possibly be, and rushing to read it as soon as you decide to send it to me. A conversation where I could perfectly hear your voice reading your every letter and every word, warming up my own ears. A conversation where we both competed on who's going to be the first one to start it, instead of the usual waiting for the other person to type in the first message, ending up not starting it at all because we're both too egoistic to speak. I wanted to send you a random smiley face, hoping it would reflect its image on your own lips and face.

I wanted you to be the first thing that came to my mind when I read a certain quote, and the first person I felt like sharing a picture that I've come across on the internet with, knowing no one will get it the way you would.

I wanted to feel my face turn red at the sight of your "Good morning, beautiful." every morning, even though I should have already gotten used to reading it. I wanted to feel excited about hanging out with you the next day, mentally making plans for what I want to wear; what I want you to see me in. I wanted to feel the pressure of your eyes the next day, as it analyzes every inch of me in a way that still doesn't expose me. I wanted to feel your desire for me as it grows, yet without making it feel like you want me in a dirty way. I wanted to feel the nervousness of being so close to someone as confident as you are, someone who makes me feel as safe as you do, while knowing that deep inside, your heart is probably melting, but you're too considerate to show any of it to me. I wanted to feel the nervousness of having everyone's eyes fixed on us, noticing that there's definitely something going on between the two of us, but letting it go because it's too cute to be pointed out. I wanted to feel like pushing them all away, just to get to spend a few minutes alone with you, where we'd say nothing from what's hidden inside, but the silence would clearly reveal it all.

I lay in my bed every night, making scenarios of the words I wish we'd share, and the words that I imagine you'd want us to say. I lay in bed every night thinking of all what I still have to give you, not even caring about what I should be expecting from you, because I know you wouldn't give me the time to wait and expect anyway. I lay in bed every night thinking about us, you and me. I lay in bed every night, mostly thinking about the beautiful you.

I miss you. And I'm too nostalgic for what we haven't even had.

I really do miss you, so very much..

Yours,
me.

عقدة الشيخ

في صلاة التراويح النهاردة، وفي الخطبة اللي ما بين الـ٤ ركعات، حسيت إني تعبت شوية فقُمت عشان أسند ضهري على حيطة من حيطان المسجد. صادفت إني قعدت جنب مجموعة من الأطفال صُحاب، كانوا قاعدين يلعبوا مع بعض، وشوية شوية تطرق اللعب إلى ضرب. قاعدوا يضربوا في بعض وأنا كنت قاعدة أضحك وأنا باتفرج عليهم، لحد ما بنت منهم إسمها سارة وقْفت ضرب وقالتلُهم "ياجماعة عيب كده، إحنا في بيت ربنا". راحت صحبتها بصتلها بسخرية كده وقالتلها "واللهِ؟ الشيخة سارة حضرتك؟". أنا أعصابي تعبت مع الجملة دي وحسيت كأن سحابة سوداء عدت من فوقي.

الأطفال دول مايكملوش ١٠ سنين مثلاً، وبغض النظر عن إن ده كان هزار ما بينهم أو لأ، بس فكرة إن موضوع زي ده يكون مترسخ في عقول الأطفال من سن صغير كده، ضايقتني. بس عشان هي قالت جملة فيها "ربنا"، خلاص بقت متشافة على إنها شيخة. الموضوع فكرني بكتاب كنت باقراه إسمه "The Forty Rules of Love" وكان مركز في بعض أجزائه على نقطة إن فيه فرق ما بين شخص -religious- وشخص -spiritual- والفرق ده يا إما الناس مابتفهموش يا إما بيعملوا مش واخدين بالهُم منه، بس إكتشفت إن الفرق ده كان تقريبا عقدتي طول حياتي.

ليه مثلاً لما أي حد بيتكلم على حاجة ليها علاقة بربنا أو بالدين، تلقائي بيُصنف على إنه شخص "متدين وبتاع ربنا"؟ وليه لما حد ممكن في نظر الناس يكون مالوش علاقة بالدين يجي يتكلم عن نفس الحاجات دي بيتقال عنه إنه "بيمثل التديُّن"؟ ليه مفيش بند "الروحانيات" ده في عقول الناس؟ وفوق كل ده، ليه اللي بيحاول يبقى كويس بيتقال عنه "شيخ"، وليه لقب زي ده ممكن يخوف اللي بيتقله ويخليه يفضَّل يبطَّل يتكلم عن أي حاجة ليها علاقة بربنا تجنباً لإن يطلع عليه إسم زي ده ويُصنف بطريقة غلط؟ وليه أصلاً حاجة زي دي تكون مشكلة واضحة ما بين أطفال ماكملوش ١٠ سنين؟

أنا شايفة إن قبل ما الأهالي يعلموا ولادهم الدين ويخدوهم معاهم المساجد، يبقوا يوضحلهُم الأول الفرق ما بين الدين والروحانيات. لأن مش شرط المتدين يبقى شخص روحاني ومش شرط برضه إن الشخص الروحاني يبقى له في الدين.

لما رجعت بقى من المسجد لقيت معز مسعود في برنامجه بيتكلم عن موضوع شبه الموضوع ده وهو التدين الظاهري وبغض النظر عن الحلقة نفسها بس في النُص قال على نفس المثال ده وهو إن لما أي حد بيبدأ يربي دقنه بيتقال عليه "شيخ" برضه. الموضوع فعلا لو ماتحلش من الصغر هيكبر مع البني آدم بالمنظر ده ومش هنعرف نتخلص منه، وهيبدأ يُستخدم بطريقة غلط.

وبجانب كل ده، معز قال جملة في النُص علقت معايا قوي؛ قال "عُمر الظاهر ما كان الأصل في الدين"، وده حقيقي جداً جداً. ربنا عمره ما بيبُص لألقاب أو أشكال، ربنا بيبُص على قلوبنا من جوا، ودي أنا متأكدة إن مفيش مخلوق في الدنيا يقدر يعرف إيه اللي فيها زي ما ربنا يقدر.

الحمد لله إن مفيش غيره يقدر يحكم على حاجة زي دي.

الحمد لله إن هو ربنا :)