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      It happened one night 'continued'


Am I his keeper? I wanted to yell, but I didn’t. I went after him and I yelled at him. Accused him of being a womanizer and, in some masochistic way, I was convincing him to sleep with her. Until he in turn got frustrated and yelled,  “Do you want me to screw her? Would that make you happy? If so then fine I will do it.” He sat there looking like a petulant child being forced into apologizing.


I realized the ridiculousness of our discussions and we started to laugh. He made his apologies and we left together with me holding him up.Our walk to the train station will forever be etched in my memories as one of the most fun filled nights of my life. It was filled with chases into casinos, mutual girls gone wild flashing and drunken singing in the streets of Prague. We got lost twice and had fun finding our way back.  


 By the time we got to the train station it was the wee hours of the morning.  He started to confide in me about the challenges of being a part of  a traditional middle eastern family. And with every confidentiality revealed, I fell for him a little more as females tend to do when they see a man who needs them. Before I knew it we were hugging, he laid his head on my chest and my arms were wrapped around him with my head against his. And we stayed like this for what seemed like hours but were merely minutes. It felt wonderful, and I thought all the shit that I went through tonight was well worth it for this moment. The tram came and ruined my moment. We got on. He sat in the seat in front of mine and I rested my head on the head rest of his seat. He turned around and trailed a line of kisses from the corner of my lips to the edge of my brow. I hated those kisses because I knew that nothing will ever be as sweet and romantic in my eyes as those tiny kisses were. We got off the tram and said goodnight in the lobby of our hotel.  I dreamed of those kisses and relive tem every night for the next few months.



And though I would love to say that we never saw each other again after he left that day, or that he realized that night how much he loved me and we became an item soon after….none of these things happened. We became friends and I would later spend a platonic weekend with him at his house in Canada. And although I am still hopelessly in love with him and I hang on every word that he says when he calls. And I anticipate his very next call with bated breath. We are only friends. You see, when I said that we come from different worlds I meant it. I’m Afro-Caribbean living in the Ghetto of Jersey and he is Pakistani and living there today. He is vain and conceited and would never deign to be with someone who looked like me.  And I could never be with someone who felt like I was beneath them in any way.


 Despite our differences we have remained friends and keep in touch on a regular basis. He still does the sweetest things for me at times, things that remind me of that night. Now two years later, I live on the idea that for a few minutes, brief though they maybe, I felt as if he loved me.


For a brief moment one night he forgot all his hang ups and held me in his arms.


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