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A love story that developed from a childhood friendship between a Muslim girl and a Christian guy, but it seemed to be impossible when time went on.


Submitted:Feb 5, 2013    Reads: 99    Comments: 4    Likes: 2   


He sent me a song entitled « take care » and he didn't know that he took a great deal of care of my heart when he told me that he came back to her. Yes, he took a great care of me when he enflamed my heart of jealousy. I even didn't know that I feel such a feeling toward him, but when he told me so I don't know what a strange feeling I felt, I wished to pinch his ears or slap him, , to tell him that I wished he was mine. But without all those girls around him, without his crowded life, I wanted to take him to another continent where he knows nobody, except me. Where I make him my little boy because he is . I wanted to tell him that I imagined him in the same house; I imagined him calling me by my name. I imagined him taking care of me because in one moment I felt that he is the one whom I need to take care of me when the sky is narrow to hold my grief. I wanted to tell him that at some extent I felt that he completes me, but the world in which he lives doesn't suit me, that I hated the way he urged a friend of him to come with him. i did not say anything, but I gathered my stuff on the table as one gathers his harms on the ground of autumn and said goodbye, I didn't have anything to do but to add him to the long list of disappointments which filled my life.
I left the room and found the cold facing me; even the rain was harsh that afternoon. The umbrella was in my hand, but I didn't want to open it, something inside me was saying "I wish him to be my umbrella" because at some extent I felt that my body didn't want an umbrella, but my soul wished it too much. Sometimes, whatever strong you pretend to be, you feel that you need someone to be there by your side, to hold your hand and say "don't worry, I am here" even by his eyes. But the problem for me was that I couldn't feel that feeling toward anybody, but one… only one guy among all those who might be the ideal persons, my heart has chosen the one whom everybody considers as a bad choice. That was not because he was a bad person, but because he was Christian and I was Muslim, the thing that we did not care about when we were children playing hide and seek or when we were stealing the fruits from the neighbor's garden. At that time, we were talking about the same God and it really seemed to be the same, the same God who doesn't like stealing and lying, but so many times, we betrayed him when we used to steal oranges and apples from that old man who doesn't see well enough to catch us. Those fruits were more delicious than those which we left at home because we had to venture to get them, then after eating them, we remember that God has seen us and what we did might make him angry, we didn't differentiate from the God he was talking about and the one I was talking about, but in our little hearts, we have known that God will forgive us.
When he left the village with his family was the first disappointment in my life, I remained alone without him, and life seemed very boring. Right before he left, he had given me a letter and put a fast kiss in my cheek; in the same way he used to steal the oranges in the neighbor's garden. I rushed to read the letter, but I was afraid that my mother finds me reading it; I entered the bathroom and opened the letter as if I have never opened a letter before, I felt an urge to read his words because that was all what remained from our days together. Reading that letter was the most beautiful thing that happened to me. It raised a strong feeling in my heart, a strange one mixed with pain and pleasure, in an age where I have never experienced pain or pleasure. It was a feeling that governed my heart; it was good and bad at the same time, it was delicious and painful, but even if it made me feel very happy, the feeling which was slipping from my heart to my stomach made me want to cry.

Everything has changed when he came back, my heart didn't stop poking me and whispering that Gorgeous feeling, but my mind was full of questions and doubts, I was afraid he forgot everything or that he considers our story only as a friendship of childhood. His parents entered and my mother asked me to go to the garage and help him in the package, my heart beat very fast and my breath was weak. I saw him after 5 years and he became different, just more handsome than I imagined him, his height filled my eyes and his brown skin and black hair and large chest made me feel an urge to go and hold him tight to my bosom, to pass my fingers inside his hair and smell his perfume, but all that was a dream to me. When he saw me on the stairs, he looked at me as if he were astonished; he looked up and down then when I arrived to him I said hello, shacked his hand and before I put the first kiss in his right cheek, he hugged me and said "it's not like this that we welcome our lovers, I miss you and I will not allow you to treat me as a stranger", when he enclosed me in his arms; I did not find any air to breathe except his perfume; I closed my eyes because the real world is too small and ridiculous when we compare it to that feeling, it is a part of heaven and my heart was beating my chest to some extent I thought it will come out of me. That feeling was painful and beautiful at the same time, but I wished not to let go, the sound of his breath made me want him more; it made me wish to hold him tighter and cry. To tell him that my life had no meaning without him and I suffered too much alone and that his letter is always in my bag, but I said nothing because that silence meant too much and words were very poor to express what we lived at that moment. His pure Kabyle body made me feel safe and filled my heart with love and passion. When I heard my mother's voice calling me, I woke up from that beautiful dream in his arms,

he said "ok aunt, we are coming right now", then he stole a kiss from my cheek as the way he did when he left.

We entered the house together and his presence meant too much for me. It meant that I had someone to protect me and that I will no more feel alone. It meant that I found my shelter again.... ( to be continued)





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