Similar Ideas...That's How We Met!

A girl searching for adventure and love:

On the journey of life full of beautiful moments and difficult challenges, time takes me through intersecting paths, and sometimes puts me in front of a point I draw, and adventures I crave to dive into, and here the decisive question arises: can intense love bring back that innocent child that left me long ago, and form a new chapter in the book of my life?

A question that always comes to my mind, interrupted by my entry into the new English language class and seeing him.

He sat on the chair opposite me. I suddenly felt his gaze following me, I glanced at him in puzzlement.

Tall with an athletic body and a somewhat messy, ungroomed beard. I cannot deny that something inside me moved, a strange feeling. I used to hear about the first look of admiration before, which I had always hated and even found it a false myth, but seeing him changed my thinking. Perhaps I had previously understood its literal meaning, and today I experienced it.

I always refused to be the one who takes the initiative, but for the first time I felt obliged to take the initiative and not miss the opportunity. What if I expressed my admiration to him? And what look or idea might he get of me? I may look like an easy going girl, but I'm not like that. So why the stereotyping and pigeonholing? I wish I could break the pattern we grew up with.

The teacher got me out of my confusion when she asked us to introduce ourselves. I found out his name was Jawad and he was 29 years old and graduated from the Faculty of Fine Arts.

We exchanged some brief words when I claimed I didn't understand the teacher's explanation of the simple present tense rule. Well, to go back to reality, I know this rule by heart but I wanted to hear it from him again, and he probably noticed my intention, as stupidly I asked him about the simplest detail in the rule that I remember is information that came in second grade.

Two hours of the lesson went by, which made me hate and resent time. For the first time, I enthusiastically entered a new language class wishing the wheel of time would forget its rotation.

At the end of the lesson, specifically at the institute's door while we were leaving, he asked me about the direction of my walk, and I told him that I was going on foot to Baramkeh. For the second time I lied, because I don't walk and I hate walking in the first place, and at that time I didn't realize the reason for my hasty answer. He told me he was also walking towards my destination and invited me to accompany him on the way back. I agreed shyly and cautiously, but my heart was dancing with joy. We walked for about half an hour, during which he created our own race, he didn't stop chattering, or more precisely we didn't stop.

For the first time I examined the sights around me closely, the corn cart in Orouba Square, the glowing balloons seller at the traffic light, I ignored the “70% Sale” signs on the shop fronts in Salhiya and I wasn't tempted by the “New Collections” at the MAGGIA store. What caught my attention were the details of the murals on the wall of Dar Al Salam school.

Seven years, about 1460 days I spent in the corridors of this school and I never noticed the murals and their contents even for one day.

I always hated this country, I don't like the features of life in it, and I count my days to leave it with my friend as we promised each other, but for the first time I loved walking, I loved the streets of Damascus at night, the congestion on the road. I loved every detail of the roads we walked down. Only then did I find that my haste and “white” lies about loving to walk turned out in my favor.

On our way he told me why he enrolled in the institute, he told me about the number of his family members, and about where he lives. We discussed briefly some issues about the beggars and flower sellers who blocked our path with the phrase "a handful of roses for the beautiful lady”. > Hadeel H Aldeen: I don't know why I got angry when he dismissed the flower seller from our path, refusing to buy me flowers, either because he was stingy, non-romantic. Anyway, I ignored the behavior that I found rude.

We continued on our way with some superficial conversations, both of us realizing we found them an introduction to talk, or more precisely, not to stop talking. First he told me that I am beautiful and cheerful, then I got bored of his talk! His words began to scatter around me causing unbearable noise.

A small thing inside me runs towards him, a crazy hope perhaps, but unlike him I take my time walking, I succeeded in portraying that image of me: a carefree woman, while he is...

I walk slowly while he eagerly awaits the next time. A few short moments I wish would last longer, but he had to say goodbye to me with a smile that warmed my heart, and promised me to meet again in the next lesson and continue our conversation.

My mind tells my heart, "Don't beat!" Please don't do this to me! Give me a chance to investigate. But my heart does not rest, it longs for a new adventure, it pushes me to experience, I sigh and before I act, I seize the opportunity and confess my madness to myself.


A man's thoughts who fell in love with details:

Between consciousness and the subconscious lies love for young people, both characterized by actions. But what is the relationship between stupidity and love, and why do we become more stupid with those we love? In the crowded English language students class, she entered.

The institute teacher asked us to enter the hall, so she sat opposite me, unconsciously, or was it fate? In any case, I will not preempt events. She looked at me in utter astonishment, and I looked at her with even more passion.

Is it possible for one to admire someone to the point of forgetting their name? I wondered, what would love be like? I asked myself and answered...with this classic method! And is this really the first look or just the flare of beginnings, and afterwards everything becomes dull? This often happens to young people, they are stunned by beauty, dizzy, and as soon as they talk to the girl for a while they get bored, or the fault lies with the girl, sometimes she doesn’t open the opportunity and sometimes she doesn’t know what she wants. Anyway, amidst the chaos of my thoughts I let the story take its course as it was written, and the situation is the best judge, this is my principle in life.

Since I have the talent for drawing, not recently, I naturally look at the details and faces of people wherever they are, so I started drawing in my imagination what I was looking at, and the lighting in the room helped to highlight the white skin color, so the skin tone was shaded as if it were an Italian Renaissance painting, as if the Creator had singled her out in her formation, making her birthmarks a small space, there on her face and specifically above her right eyebrow, and another on the wrist of her right hand, black holes in need of an astronaut to discover them, and I will be the first to visit them.

After introductions the attendees got to know what I already knew about her, except that out of great admiration I forgot her name, and suddenly she asked me about the rule of “simple present tense” and in my mind roams the question: is there a simple spontaneous present other than what I'm currently experiencing? ...and I spaced out...then I went back to reality and explained what she needed and elaborated on the explanation to the point it almost reached the letters of the language itself.

The lesson ended, and I prepared myself to leave and return to my house located on the street facing the institute. Unconsciously I asked her about her destination...she said: “to Baramkeh”, so I said to her: “same destination”. > Hadeel H Aldeen: I started thinking again, when does a person resort to lying? And is this considered lying...if the intentions are good? Why do men lie to women? And why do they say lying is the salt of men? And are all women truthful? For me, lying is welcomed if the reason behind it is seeing her.

As usual in first meetings I introduced myself to her, my family...and suddenly I heard: “a rose miss, may God marry you off” “a handful of roses for the beautiful lady”, and with quick mental processing I analyzed how she would think if I bought a rose and gave it to her...what if she doesn't like roses in the first place, and instead of her falling love, I make her fall out of love, or she refuses and what would I do with the rose then, or she accepts it wholeheartedly, and if I don't buy it she might ask: "Why didn't you buy it..maybe you needed something in return”, or that she asks herself is he stingy that he resented buying a rose, is it possible that I didn't appeal to him? Anyway what should the young man do in this situation? I said to the seller “God bless you” and here I no longer knew what happened, the passion of the first meeting turned into thinking about the rose, her response and first