Wanderlust by Ayya AlBadr & Reema AlFozan

Posted on March 10, 2013 by


The echoes of his footsteps haunt me. I can still feel the warmness of his touch. The trembling heated kisses he stamped all over my body. The sweet words, that play, over and over again. Mimicking a broken record. I’ve waited for him, all my life, and when I finally had him between my arms, he breaks, and falls, and falters into the oceans. I waited a lifetime, and I’m now going to spend a lifetime reminiscing the few months we had together. A lifetime of wanting and a lifetime of regret. I can’t believe he’s gone.


You haven’t left the bed in days. Our bed. There are so many things I want, but the most is for you to feel me holding you, feel me wiping your damp face and kissing you and telling you that I’m here, that I haven’t left and that I never will. That I’m sorry, so incredibly sorry. That I’m sorry I wasn’t half the man you deserved and that I’m sorry I perished. I’m sorry that I’m the reason the sheets are constantly soaked in the worst way imaginable and I’m sorry I’m unable to dry them. We both cry. I hold you close and we both ache. You for my loss and me for your pain. I’m so, so sorry, my love.


I went to his favorite restaurant, and ordered his favorite meal. I miss him. I miss the secrets we shared and I miss the smiles he slyly gave me. He was filled with life. The light to every gloomy day. He was my best friend, my person.


I watch over you as you sleep, as you wake up ritually at three in the morning screaming and panting and crying. I don’t know which of us is more in pain. Yet through your tears you remain the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes upon. I’d rather die all over again and again and again than hear you sob so hard your voice is lost. I’d rather die all over again than see your body tremble so violently you eventually lose consciousness. See you so fragile, so drained, so depleted. I would die a million times to keep you lifetimes away from this. Please, my love, please stop crying.


I walked on the boardwalk, and I imagined him, putting his arms around me, and telling me how much he loved me.. I tried to keep the tears in, but they eventually erupted. I tried to keep my love in, the yearning in, but every swollen memory, erupted with a shriek. My love for him exploded. I lost all senses, and I felt him.. But I’m not supposed to feel him. I felt his memory.. I heard his footsteps., I smelled his cologne and I followed his scent. Around the corner, across the street, behind the building, over the bridge, I followed him. I followed every kiss, every I love you, every embrace and every heated argument.


I miss you. Can you feel it? Can you feel my breath on your neck and my arms around your waist? It used to make you shiver with anticipation. I should have done it more often. I was so naive, so stupid to believe in the existence of forever. I should have tried harder, I should have held you through the break of every dawn, I should have kissed you between breaths. I should have made sure I would never be forgotten.


He was my everything. He was mine, and I was his, and nothing else mattered. I loved him, and I loved how much he loved me. I tried to resurrect him, by following the shadow of our love. The years pass, and I find myself, waiting for his arrival. I miss him, and I love him, to the point where, denying his death, is the only thing keeping me from following in his footsteps. It is the only thing stopping me, from following him into the dark. I think, I need to leave. I think my love for him, will eventually kill me. The fall, burned my soul and crumbled my very existence. I have never been this low. I want to breath again. I want to surround myself with people. Different people. I want to breath again, I want new streets to roam. I want to dream, again. I want to feel alive.


For the first time in centuries, you begin to smile. If it could, my heart would have pounded at the sight. The guilt has been pulling me through the seven layers of the Earth and drowning me. I walk with you through the streets, hand in hand, never letting go. My last breath was spent on the vow that I am never letting go.


My life, tried to take my own life away. How can I fight with such a strong force of nature. I hope, every step I take, makes thinking of you, hurt, less.


Do you remember?


Our sanctuary, our bed, where we went when we wanted to shut out the world and let out ourselves. It’s warmth, a warmth we created, a warmth we built with our fingers and toes and laughs and desires. A warmth I can only wish I could feel again. Tell me you remember. Stop batting your eyelashes at him and tell me you remember. Listen to my whispers. Listen to the memories I’m relaying to you. My love, tell me you remember how we used to take days off and lay under the sheets if one of us simply did not have it in themself to leave our haven, leave the other. Remember the ice cream sundaes and the flus and the late night films. Remember the songs we used to sing and the photos we would take and the love we would to make. Remember the stars we lay under and the mosquitoes that bit your lip.


Do you remember?


(Parts in bold are by Ayya Al Badr.

Parts in italics are by Reema Al Fozan.)

Posted in: Wanderlust