living Inside my Head
I don't see you in my dreams, but you are the first thing I remember every time I open my eyes in the morning. We don't talk daily, but you live in my head, and my imagination keeps a heartfelt conversation with you - endless conversations. I don't even know you, nor do I know myself. Every time I try to see your eyes, they shift to your lips or shirt, as if I am seeking comfort before I lose my mind or the right words to say to you when the topic is serious, very urgently serious, or completely below the average seriousness I can be myself. I don't like being hard on myself all the time.
You feel like home, not back home or in my second hometown, but in a dreamy place called home. That's how warm you are, and how cold I am every time. I just cannot shut up and run out of time whenever I talk to you.
You are my friend, or maybe not just yet a friend, but maybe closer than that, or maybe it's all just in my head? Even though I know that whenever I see you or make you read my complaints, I wish you knew that it's my heart that's talking and communicating with you, not me. And I must admit that you have a certain magic that makes me talk and talk and talk and talk until nonstop. I know I can be loud and noisy when I talk, just like my silence.
When you asked how my week went and my answer was 50/50, you responded by saying, "Well, I don't know where you live or how you live or what's going on in your life, but that's life, and we can't expect our days to go perfectly every day." I just wished I could have interrupted you and said that I live in my head. I live there a lot. It's my sacred place that I belong to more than a sense of belonging to home, house, family, community, a whole neighborhood, or friends. I'm with all of them and not with them at all. I'm a loner, not by preference, but rather because it has been a pattern for a very long time, maybe since the day I was born, and that's because I'm different and hard to be understood.
It's not a lack of love, but a lack of understanding and sometimes a series of events that lead me to end up in the wrong places with the wrong people who I thought I could relate to somehow or just fit in.
But something happens and detaches me or removes me from these places or people's lives in a mysterious way that I wish I could understand why. I am the unknown to no one. Let's keep it simple that way. And yes, I'm sure even you will not be able to figure me out, not because I am special or a red carpet star, nor an ordinary woman, but because I am like the puzzle that I can't find the answer to. Do you think you can? I hope so.
Bedor Alobaidi
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