“Lately, I’ve been forgetting to breathe.” She said quietly.

“Is that even possible?”

She forced a smile. “Everything is possible.”

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. It was better this way, she’d keep them closed for a while so he wouldn’t see them tearing up. He’d seen her through her ups and downs before, but this time she reckoned it’d be too much for him to handle. “Everything is possible.” She whispered another time – this time to herself; some sort of pep-talk she thought she needed to hear.

She felt him come closer. “Are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.” It came out harsher than she intended.

“Then open your eyes and let me see how fine you are.”

It was unfair how well he knew her. “My eyes are resting.”

“Bullshit.” She could tell he was growing impatient.

She opened her eyes and a myriad of tears spilled quietly on both sides of her face as she smiled at him. “Remind me, won’t you?”

He squeezed her hand tightly in his. “Of what?”

“To breathe. I keep forgetting.”

He moved closer and wiped the tears off her face. “Okay. I will.”

“Lay down next to me.” She ordered and he obeyed, his hands went right back to where they were before; in hers.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He asked.

“I hate feeling this way. It’s too soon to feel this way again.” Her voice was breaking. He took her into his arms. “It’s too soon.” She cried. “It’s too soon and I didn’t think it was possible. But everything is possible. Everything.” She wept softly.

“Breathe.” He thought it would be a good time to say that now as she sounded out of breath. “What are you talking about, honey? What way?”

She sat up. “My heart knows.” She whispered. “But my mind’s in denial. But I know I am. And it’s too soon, but everything is possible.”

“Are you saying -”

She cut him off. “Couldn’t I blame something else?

Don’t say I’m falling in love.”

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah

* Note: The last two lines in italics are lyrics from Corinne Bailey Rae’s song “Trouble Sleeping”. Give it a listen xx

She felt like her heart had been ripped out.

Whatever was left of it, anyway, it was never whole to begin with. She felt empty, estranged, lonely. Alone. Yeah, that was the most painful one of all. Being alone. She was always so terrified of it and now her worst nightmare had come true, there was literally no one around her. No one to talk to, no one to make her feel better. No one to comfort her.

She knew she was the one who drove them all away. She knew that if she gave any of her so-called “friends” a call now they’d act as though nothing happened… they’d act like everything was just alright. But she couldn’t do it, because she’d always know. Always know that she was the one who made that extra move and that no one else bothered to.

A tear swam out of her tired eyes and fell like a rock upon her chest. Her tears were heavy and painful, each one cut her skin wherever it landed. She looked around her and felt like everything was going in slow motion. The sun was shining against her skin, burning her into a sense of fatigue. She liked it. She wanted to feel that helpless. For once, she wanted to feel out of control. For once, she wanted to feel out of it, she wanted to feel like she didn’t have a choice to make on what was about to happen to her. She was so tired of choosing, so tired of resisting.

She watched the cars below her, whooshing by so busily and carelessly. She tried to remember the last time she felt like that. For the past year it seemed like she was jumping from one worry to the next. One loss after the other. One dream shattering before the next.

She’d lost the love of her life to something so mundane yet she couldn’t fight it and it tore her heart in two. She’d lost her closest friends to distance, lust, pride and irrational fears. She lost her faith because she couldn’t believe that a divine power would bear to watch her suffer like she was. She lost her family because families tend to make too small a deal out of depression… and her inability to explain why she was fading caused them to undermine her pain. And in the end she lost her sanity… and it was the hardest thing for her to lose.

She looked down one more time. She was always so afraid of heights and that made her particularly proud of herself at that moment. There she stood on the edge and not a single cell of her body felt any sense of fear. Sadness, only sadness. That was the only emotion her body had allowed her to feel for some time now.

She waited for the ant-sized people to clear the way below her and then for the first time in her life, she craved a loss. And with one step forward, she achieved it.

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah

Six months ago you told me that you wished someone would write as passionately and beautifully about you as I write. You said you’d keel over and literally die.

Those were your exact words. I know, because I saved that conversation. Now it’s been six months, and here I am. Here we are. My poetry, my stories, my thoughts… they’re all about you. Nothing and no one else is in my head. You got exactly what you wished for, and yet, I’m not making you as happy as I wished I would.

I don’t know if you’re reading this, or if you’ve read my previous pieces. I have no way of finding out. But I wish with all my heart that you are because never before have I written with such unfiltered honesty as I’m writing to you right now. I need you to know, I need you to see. I need you to listen… I need you to believe.

When we parted I made you promise me you’d be okay. I realize that was selfish of me. I know you’ve tried, and I appreciate it, but I also know that you are not okay now. And it kills me. I know I promised you I’d be fine as well, but I can’t help but break down when I find out that I’m causing you so much pain.

And it hurts me even more when I see why you’re breaking yourself up. You think you caused this, you think you’re the source of my pain. If anything, you’re the only thing that’s sweetening the blow for me.

I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you for a single thing. And I wish you’d stop too. Do you really believe it’s your fault? Do you really believe that I believe so? Because if it was true and you really did think so, I’d wanna slap you now.

All you did was love me. That was all I asked and all I ever really wanted. What came our way couldn’t have been controlled by neither you nor I. I want you to stop believing you had anything to do with it or that you’ve in any way hurt me. Because what you really did was build me up from the nothing I always was.

What you really did was bring happiness into the lifeless strain of hazy days that was my life.

What you really did was open up the damaged and dusty piece of equipment that I used to call my heart to the beautiful soul that is your own.

What you really did was love me.

You love me, therefore I’m alive.

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah

I wrote this piece about a year ago. I had an idea for a story, and when I decided to sit down and write it, this is what I chose to write for the prologue. I ended up writing 25 chapters, and then I just stopped. My favorite part of the whole thing was this piece, so I decided to share it. If you’re interested in reading the rest, don’t hesitate in letting me know.

And note that this story is entirely fictional. Enjoy!

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I think it’s safe to say she had the bigger part of my heart.

Like Israel, she invaded my Palestine. Except she wasn’t aware of what she’d done, wasn’t aware of the damage, of the casualties. And all the other organs of my body hopelessly tried to fight it, but my heart was defenseless.

And it was sweet… Till it wasn’t.

I’ll admit, I willingly served it to her on a gold platter, but I didn’t except her to gobble it up. And gobble she did, as I watched her lick her perfect lips and smile in pure satisfaction. I watched her, and she watched me suffering. There was something so ironic about the whole situation, because as she clawed at me I wished it were the other way around.

I wished to be the one in control. I wished to have control over her soul. But I had already succumbed to her wishes and to her beauty. I was hers, even though she had no clue of it. Alas, she never wanted me.

But I wanted her. I wanted her with a passion that could easily kill a weakling. Not to say I wasn’t one, but being with her made me strong, and I knew that if I let go of that tiny shred of hope that I would inevitably crumble to pieces.

So I held on, unwanted. I held on when I should have long let go, and it hurt. Hurt because… well, you can’t exactly give someone your heart and then ask for it back, can you? So I guess I was waiting for her to be “polite” which was never really one of her strongest suits. And I couldn’t go on without a heart.

Or so I thought. Until I woke up one day and decided that my heart is something that I will be giving up. Like a drug, or so I tried to convince myself. Like an addiction, I had decided to quit it.

My name is Haley, and I am without a heart.

© Copyright 7ala Abdullah