MENA CR1/K3/K1 filers

[doodlebugg 10]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

[chaishai 1]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Im the reverse situation. I always got rid of my photos throughout the years - i tend to date similar type A "aggressive" types and the end to all prior relationships that i have had except for the superficial were BAD.... so i never wanted to remember and got rid of them. Meanwhile picture happy israelis chronicle every moment of their life so i have boxes and boxes of photos of my husbands life and i DO get jealous when i see his beautiful ex girlfriends! he dated some really gorgeous women. Not because he dated them, but because now I have no history of my ex boyfriends so share also!

[doodlebugg 10]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Im the reverse situation. I always got rid of my photos throughout the years - i tend to date similar type A "aggressive" types and the end to all prior relationships that i have had except for the superficial were BAD.... so i never wanted to remember and got rid of them. Meanwhile picture happy israelis chronicle every moment of their life so i have boxes and boxes of photos of my husbands life and i DO get jealous when i see his beautiful ex girlfriends! he dated some really gorgeous women. Not because he dated them, but because now I have no history of my ex boyfriends so share also!

I wish my ex had gotten rid of his love letters and photos. I guess my kids will never have to worry about love letters since no one sends snail mail love letters anymore. I can remember getting them in the mail and being so excited to read them. Waiting for the postman to come, etc. lol. Anyways I remember after I moved into his apt after we were married I stumbled upon "the drawer" that contained things from two of the love-of-his-life's. Well from that day forward I always compared myself to them. Drove me bonkers!

[chaishai 1]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Im the reverse situation. I always got rid of my photos throughout the years - i tend to date similar type A "aggressive" types and the end to all prior relationships that i have had except for the superficial were BAD.... so i never wanted to remember and got rid of them. Meanwhile picture happy israelis chronicle every moment of their life so i have boxes and boxes of photos of my husbands life and i DO get jealous when i see his beautiful ex girlfriends! he dated some really gorgeous women. Not because he dated them, but because now I have no history of my ex boyfriends so share also!

I wish my ex had gotten rid of his love letters and photos. I guess my kids will never have to worry about love letters since no one sends snail mail love letters anymore. I can remember getting them in the mail and being so excited to read them. Waiting for the postman to come, etc. lol. Anyways I remember after I moved into his apt after we were married I stumbled upon "the drawer" that contained things from two of the love-of-his-life's. Well from that day forward I always compared myself to them. Drove me bonkers!

I love my blackberry facebook internet etc... but there is an interesting guy andrew something who writes about how social media is killing culture, and hes right! how awesome was it to smell the letter to see if it smelled like the guy!!! not going to happen anymore...

[Y's_habibitk 2]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Im the reverse situation. I always got rid of my photos throughout the years - i tend to date similar type A "aggressive" types and the end to all prior relationships that i have had except for the superficial were BAD.... so i never wanted to remember and got rid of them. Meanwhile picture happy israelis chronicle every moment of their life so i have boxes and boxes of photos of my husbands life and i DO get jealous when i see his beautiful ex girlfriends! he dated some really gorgeous women. Not because he dated them, but because now I have no history of my ex boyfriends so share also!

I wish my ex had gotten rid of his love letters and photos. I guess my kids will never have to worry about love letters since no one sends snail mail love letters anymore. I can remember getting them in the mail and being so excited to read them. Waiting for the postman to come, etc. lol. Anyways I remember after I moved into his apt after we were married I stumbled upon "the drawer" that contained things from two of the love-of-his-life's. Well from that day forward I always compared myself to them. Drove me bonkers!

i think thats human nature... or at least my nature too

[Y's_habibitk 2]

CASE COMPLETE!

They said call back next week to see if an interview has been schuduled!! WOO HOO! I am so FRIGGIN happy! So much for the the stinkypants I had on earlier this week, got me a clean pair of drawers on today!!

Mabrook!!! Woooohoooo!

Ok..I know this will be super long, but I wanted to try it out on you ladies. I came across this short story I wrote a couple of years ago and wanted to see what you thought (seems long, but it really is a short story). Let me know what you think and if it seems interesting.

Did you ever regret not doing something when you had the chance? Did you ever think you had forgotten about someone you knew for years?

It was a hot July day. I was running around doing work errands and it was time for lunch. I couldn’t think of what I wanted to eat, so I just ducked into the nearest sandwich shop near work. I walked up to the counter and placed a to-go order, signed my debit card slip, and got my cup for a drink. I turned to head to the drink machine and it hit me like an icy wave. I felt like a wet noodle and a rush of emotion flooded over me. I thought for sure I had gotten rid of that feeling a long time ago. Was there somewhere I went wrong? I thought my heart had been purged of that sensation. But there he was, waiting for his food. At first I just glimpsed him from the side, but I automatically knew who it was, no doubt in my mind. He was standing right beside the drink machine, right where I needed to go. It was a small sandwich shop and there was no where else to go to escape. A million thoughts ran through my head in just seconds trying to figure out what to do. How do you face someone you loved for so long, but always kept you as second best? I flipped my hair back, sucked in my stomach, bit my lip and walked over to the machine. The place was crowded, but I thought for sure he would notice me since he was practically standing right beside me. I felt like I was going to throw ice all over the place. I felt that nervous twitch all over my body, but I kept it under control. I filled up my glass with ice, then soda. Now what? I still had to stand somewhere to wait for my food. My heart couldn’t decide what to do, run away or just say hello. I felt if I said hello my voice would be so shaky that he would think I was crazy. But then again, it felt like my lips were glued together, like the higher power didn’t want me to open my mouth. But I wanted to know what he was up to, what was going on in his life. And in that same exact moment, all the memories rushed back, I ran to an empty table facing away from him and sat down. Nervously, I sat there gulping down my soda, hoping they would call his number and he would simply go. It was like someone turned the volume switch to the restaurant completely off and all I could hear was my heart pounding in my throat. Ba bump, ba bump. Finally they called his number, he took his food and left. He never said a word. I never looked straight at him, so I’m not sure if he noticed me or not. Then again, it has been years since he saw me. I have a new hair color, I had a baby. But I noticed him after all this time, wouldn’t he have noticed me?

It was kind of a coincidence to have seen him at that very place. It was 1998 and I had just started college. He was a year ahead of me, but we wound up going to the same college and somehow found each other. He had taken me to this very sandwich shop years ago and taught me how to mix Sun-Drop with Coca-Cola. Although it sounds nasty, it’s actually pretty good. I just remember feeling silly about being nervous around him, I mean, we’d known each other for years before that. But it was the whole being “just you and me” together. It was my first year away from home, so I was a little clingy to what I knew, but what drove me to this feeling I have now, in this same place, in the same spot we both stood years ago? I ran to the car with my food, grabbed the steering wheel and began to cry. I was so shaken that it made me feel physically sick.

I was just 14 years old, just started high school and I hated it. I felt so unpopular and worried about everything that a 14 year-old worries about until it made me sick. My parents saw an ad in the paper about a new karate school that was opening up in town and thought that it would be a good idea for my sister and I to go to learn self-defense. My sister and I thought it just sounded cool and had wanted to be like Mr. Miyagi ever since we had seen the Karate Kid movies. Champion Karate. I’ll never forget darkening those doors for the first time. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall place and the walls were made out of cinder blocks. The walls were primer white and life size mirrors covered the entire wall. Our teacher was this short, blond-headed man. Short, yet compact and built like a karate man. He had a mullet and the back was curly, but it fit his personality. Back then, living in such a small Southern town, no one knew about “you might be a redneck if…” So it was an everyday thing for us. His name was Rudy Bordeaux, but everybody called him Mr. B for short. So I started working out and soon figured out that karate was made for me. I was good at balance. I was good at stances. I was good at forms. I was really good at kicking. I guess it’s really what got me through high school. I could get all my anger and frustrations out by kicking on other students. It was great. So several months passed and Mr. B invited all his students to his other karate school in a small town only a few minutes away. He wanted us to get to know other students and spar with them. I was a little nervous. It was a different school, different people. But I went anyway, how bad could it really be? I had no idea that someone that I would meet there would wind up haunting me for an eternity, or so it seems.

It was a weeknight and I remember riding to Mr. B’s other school with my Mom and Grandmother. I don’t remember anymore what we did in class, or anything else about the class for that matter, except for noticing one blond-haired boy that was already a black belt. I just remember telling my Mom, “Mama, did you see that blond boy? Did you know that he is 15 and already a black belt?” I remember being impressed about his age and him being that advanced, but not much more. Little did I know that that simple encounter would mean years of pain and a river worth of tears.

Time went by and that blond boy started showing up for class in my town. Cute, skinny, tall, and surfer hair. We said a few words to each other at each class and little by little we got to know each other better. I still had this great impression of him then because he was good at karate and so was I. It was a common bond that made us very good friends. Years passed and our friendship grew stronger and stronger. Then I turned 16 and I got my first car. It was a blood red Pontiac Sunbird. I began driving myself to karate class and started staying a little past class talking with the blond boy. We were both in marching band and both loved music, another bond that held us together. He had tried to teach me to play his saxophone, but it was no good. I just sounded like a dying cow. Inevitably I fell for him. There was no stopping it. I was reeling out of control, but I didn’t know it quite yet. Then it happened. One day after karate class, everyone had left and he walked me out to my car. I just remember opening the door and standing behind it, he was on the other side. Our first kiss. The one that ended it all. It was all downhill from there.

And so it went on from there. Making eyes at the blond boy during karate class and trying to pick each other as sparing partners. The karate teachers decided to get all the students together and go see Jackie Chan’s new movie, Rumble in the Bronx at the theaters when it came out. It made sense, karate movie, karate students going with their karate teachers to go see it. It was definitely not a big deal but there was one moment, just a split second, that stands out in my mind about that particular event. We were all filing in to the small theater. I walked ahead and the blond boy soon followed after me, of course, so we could sit beside each other. I just remember there being a back up in the line and the blond boy just reached up and grabbed me around my waist. I turned around and he flashed me a smile that had no end. Well, that was a big mistake. That smile became burned into my memory for future reference as I continuously swooned out of control. So things went on that way for some time. Little innocent kisses here and there, winks, laughs, music, and karate.

Fast forward now back to college. As I said, he had gone a year before me and was studying music. I trailed behind and began my marine biology and Spanish studies. I started out my first year living in the international house. That was a big break for me because that is where I met my very best friend, Nel, from Germany. She helped break me out of my small town shell and experience the world how all good college students should. We stayed in the suites and it just so happened that blond boy stayed practically right across the street in the university apartments. This close proximity lead to late night dashes across the street to meet and hang out. He would come over to my place at times. Sometimes we would end up at the same parties. And as you may eventually guess, this lead to the most intimate moment two people can share. And of course, as you may guess again, it didn’t happen only once, it happened here and there. For me, that was the biggest moment of my life. To share something so sacred with someone was definitely not a joke for me.

So why, you ask, did all of this become an eternity of heartache and a river’s worth of tears? I had spent the past four years loving this blond boy and sharing the most special of times with him all to find out that he was dating someone the whole time. Not only was he dating this girl and cheating on her with me, but cheating on her with other girls too. It broke my heart. I thought the feelings were mutual until one day I decided to tell him that I loved him. His response, “Aww, that’s sweet.” Excuse me? That’s sweet? I’m sorry, but that is the most ridiculous response I have ever heard! It was almost like I could see my heart falling out of my chest, hitting the ground, and breaking in to a million pieces. Then I saw him get up and walk all over those pieces, slowly grinding his foot in to each piece making it even smaller. It is so hard to describe the pain of loving someone and them not loving you back, just using you. But I’m sure it’s a pain that you have all felt at some time in your life. This crazy game of love.

I cried and cried and cried. I always cried in private, if that is even a possibility having to share a dorm room and a bathroom and a kitchen with others. I guess my only real place to really escape was the beach in the middle of the night. I went there countless times to cry and think. It is the place I feel closest to God since a lot of the miracles He performed were near water. I went out with friends. I said “screw it!” “He isn’t going to bring me down!” And slowly but surely, blond boy made his way out of my thoughts. My tears began to dry and I finally started to feel free. I found my niche, or should I say, it found me. Dancing. Salsa to be exact. Salsa dancing. Merengue. Cumbia. Bachata. I got dragged into it by some Spanish-speaking friends from the international house against my will, but it was because it was meant to be.

There were dancing classes every Wednesday night downtown at Barney’s and then free dance afterwards. It was a once a week thing that quickly became two to three times a week. I met so many great people. I fell in love with a few Mexicans. Yes it’s funny, but you don’t realize how attractive someone can be until you dance salsa with them. And yet even more, the thoughts of blond boy drifted away and I put him out of my life. He drifted to do what he wanted to do and soon all contact, even by phone stopped. And so life went on as it was intended to and I was happy that I had triumphed over a love that I thought had taken all the love I had and thrown it away.

Eventually I found a Mexican man that I loved very much. We were together all the time and that helped bury my thoughts of the blond boy way deep down. Deep down in a place I considered the place of no return. I guess the recipe was mix one part of blond hurt with one part of brown love and that cancels it all out. Hey, if I did take away one thing in my genetics class it was that brown eyes are a dominate gene. So it makes sense to me. One day in my bliss I received a call from the blond boy. Not again you say. I said that too. He wanted to hang out. I knew the pattern so I told him straight up that I was with someone and I didn’t want to ruin that. This happened several times until I believe he got the picture. The phone calls stopped again. And so I continued on in my love with the Mexican and wound up marrying him.

So you might be thinking, what could be better? Well, the relationship with the Mexican started going downhill. He drank. He got angry over the smallest things. Plus he left for Mexico for 6 months and left me and his child all alone. Needless to say, things weren’t going as planned. So then my sister calls me up one day, “Guess what I found on the internet? It’s this cool place where you can make a page and add friends and find lots of people from high school. Guess who messaged me once I made up my page?” Enter blond boy. Blond boy…its been a while. Not since that chance encounter I described at the beginning of this story had I seen him.

Okay, fine, call it peer pressure or what have you, but I caved and made a MySpace page. And of course, soon to follow was the add of the blond boy as a friend. Time passed. I was sitting at work and decided to check my MySpace page for any messages or comments. I get an instant message…it’s from the blond boy. He wants to know what I am doing for lunch today. He wanted to know if married people can have lunch. What do I say? What do I do? I accepted. I met him for lunch and we caught up on what each of us had done in the past years of no contact. Mind you, we are going on 13 years of knowing each other. As I sat there listening to him, I began to get an old feeling creeping up on me. I looked into his eyes and saw a sadness that didn’t used to be there. Almost a cry for help somewhere deep inside those blue eyes of his. Okay, Amanda, snap out of it. Don’t get carried away like before. But it seems like he has changed, he is different now. He has matured. Don’t be silly. He is still the same old player he used to be. So on went this conversation inside my head. A war between good and evil if you will. Those same feelings that got buried deep down somehow found an outlet to begin seeping out again. I left that restaurant thinking that he had changed and started wondering how life might have been different for us had we actually gotten together and made it as a couple.

For days the daydreams continued, but I thought there would be no hope. My marriage began to seriously go down hill and it seemed I had lost hope. I was searching and searching for a way out of this craziness in my heart and my only release was to write music. One night amongst my tears, a chorus came in my head. “I love you, just like yesterday. It’s impossible but I do it anyway. I love you like I did back then. And this love for you must stay locked within.” My husband and I separated and blond boy’s calls began to be more frequent.

Okay, back to read the whole thing. I think its good writing and you made me believe what you were feeling and it is interesting. But I think the content could be very hurtful to Raad. If it was me, I would be very hurt and it would be a reminder that I wasnt your "first big love". I know thats not what you were asking but since its obviously a true story...its sensitive IMHO

Stick with your writing though Amanda

[Kenza 1]

CASE COMPLETE!

They said call back next week to see if an interview has been schuduled!! WOO HOO! I am so FRIGGIN happy! So much for the the stinkypants I had on earlier this week, got me a clean pair of drawers on today!!

Mabrook!!! Woooohoooo!

Ok..I know this will be super long, but I wanted to try it out on you ladies. I came across this short story I wrote a couple of years ago and wanted to see what you thought (seems long, but it really is a short story). Let me know what you think and if it seems interesting.

Did you ever regret not doing something when you had the chance? Did you ever think you had forgotten about someone you knew for years?

It was a hot July day. I was running around doing work errands and it was time for lunch. I couldn’t think of what I wanted to eat, so I just ducked into the nearest sandwich shop near work. I walked up to the counter and placed a to-go order, signed my debit card slip, and got my cup for a drink. I turned to head to the drink machine and it hit me like an icy wave. I felt like a wet noodle and a rush of emotion flooded over me. I thought for sure I had gotten rid of that feeling a long time ago. Was there somewhere I went wrong? I thought my heart had been purged of that sensation. But there he was, waiting for his food. At first I just glimpsed him from the side, but I automatically knew who it was, no doubt in my mind. He was standing right beside the drink machine, right where I needed to go. It was a small sandwich shop and there was no where else to go to escape. A million thoughts ran through my head in just seconds trying to figure out what to do. How do you face someone you loved for so long, but always kept you as second best? I flipped my hair back, sucked in my stomach, bit my lip and walked over to the machine. The place was crowded, but I thought for sure he would notice me since he was practically standing right beside me. I felt like I was going to throw ice all over the place. I felt that nervous twitch all over my body, but I kept it under control. I filled up my glass with ice, then soda. Now what? I still had to stand somewhere to wait for my food. My heart couldn’t decide what to do, run away or just say hello. I felt if I said hello my voice would be so shaky that he would think I was crazy. But then again, it felt like my lips were glued together, like the higher power didn’t want me to open my mouth. But I wanted to know what he was up to, what was going on in his life. And in that same exact moment, all the memories rushed back, I ran to an empty table facing away from him and sat down. Nervously, I sat there gulping down my soda, hoping they would call his number and he would simply go. It was like someone turned the volume switch to the restaurant completely off and all I could hear was my heart pounding in my throat. Ba bump, ba bump. Finally they called his number, he took his food and left. He never said a word. I never looked straight at him, so I’m not sure if he noticed me or not. Then again, it has been years since he saw me. I have a new hair color, I had a baby. But I noticed him after all this time, wouldn’t he have noticed me?

It was kind of a coincidence to have seen him at that very place. It was 1998 and I had just started college. He was a year ahead of me, but we wound up going to the same college and somehow found each other. He had taken me to this very sandwich shop years ago and taught me how to mix Sun-Drop with Coca-Cola. Although it sounds nasty, it’s actually pretty good. I just remember feeling silly about being nervous around him, I mean, we’d known each other for years before that. But it was the whole being “just you and me” together. It was my first year away from home, so I was a little clingy to what I knew, but what drove me to this feeling I have now, in this same place, in the same spot we both stood years ago? I ran to the car with my food, grabbed the steering wheel and began to cry. I was so shaken that it made me feel physically sick.

I was just 14 years old, just started high school and I hated it. I felt so unpopular and worried about everything that a 14 year-old worries about until it made me sick. My parents saw an ad in the paper about a new karate school that was opening up in town and thought that it would be a good idea for my sister and I to go to learn self-defense. My sister and I thought it just sounded cool and had wanted to be like Mr. Miyagi ever since we had seen the Karate Kid movies. Champion Karate. I’ll never forget darkening those doors for the first time. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall place and the walls were made out of cinder blocks. The walls were primer white and life size mirrors covered the entire wall. Our teacher was this short, blond-headed man. Short, yet compact and built like a karate man. He had a mullet and the back was curly, but it fit his personality. Back then, living in such a small Southern town, no one knew about “you might be a redneck if…” So it was an everyday thing for us. His name was Rudy Bordeaux, but everybody called him Mr. B for short. So I started working out and soon figured out that karate was made for me. I was good at balance. I was good at stances. I was good at forms. I was really good at kicking. I guess it’s really what got me through high school. I could get all my anger and frustrations out by kicking on other students. It was great. So several months passed and Mr. B invited all his students to his other karate school in a small town only a few minutes away. He wanted us to get to know other students and spar with them. I was a little nervous. It was a different school, different people. But I went anyway, how bad could it really be? I had no idea that someone that I would meet there would wind up haunting me for an eternity, or so it seems.

It was a weeknight and I remember riding to Mr. B’s other school with my Mom and Grandmother. I don’t remember anymore what we did in class, or anything else about the class for that matter, except for noticing one blond-haired boy that was already a black belt. I just remember telling my Mom, “Mama, did you see that blond boy? Did you know that he is 15 and already a black belt?” I remember being impressed about his age and him being that advanced, but not much more. Little did I know that that simple encounter would mean years of pain and a river worth of tears.

Time went by and that blond boy started showing up for class in my town. Cute, skinny, tall, and surfer hair. We said a few words to each other at each class and little by little we got to know each other better. I still had this great impression of him then because he was good at karate and so was I. It was a common bond that made us very good friends. Years passed and our friendship grew stronger and stronger. Then I turned 16 and I got my first car. It was a blood red Pontiac Sunbird. I began driving myself to karate class and started staying a little past class talking with the blond boy. We were both in marching band and both loved music, another bond that held us together. He had tried to teach me to play his saxophone, but it was no good. I just sounded like a dying cow. Inevitably I fell for him. There was no stopping it. I was reeling out of control, but I didn’t know it quite yet. Then it happened. One day after karate class, everyone had left and he walked me out to my car. I just remember opening the door and standing behind it, he was on the other side. Our first kiss. The one that ended it all. It was all downhill from there.

And so it went on from there. Making eyes at the blond boy during karate class and trying to pick each other as sparing partners. The karate teachers decided to get all the students together and go see Jackie Chan’s new movie, Rumble in the Bronx at the theaters when it came out. It made sense, karate movie, karate students going with their karate teachers to go see it. It was definitely not a big deal but there was one moment, just a split second, that stands out in my mind about that particular event. We were all filing in to the small theater. I walked ahead and the blond boy soon followed after me, of course, so we could sit beside each other. I just remember there being a back up in the line and the blond boy just reached up and grabbed me around my waist. I turned around and he flashed me a smile that had no end. Well, that was a big mistake. That smile became burned into my memory for future reference as I continuously swooned out of control. So things went on that way for some time. Little innocent kisses here and there, winks, laughs, music, and karate.

Fast forward now back to college. As I said, he had gone a year before me and was studying music. I trailed behind and began my marine biology and Spanish studies. I started out my first year living in the international house. That was a big break for me because that is where I met my very best friend, Nel, from Germany. She helped break me out of my small town shell and experience the world how all good college students should. We stayed in the suites and it just so happened that blond boy stayed practically right across the street in the university apartments. This close proximity lead to late night dashes across the street to meet and hang out. He would come over to my place at times. Sometimes we would end up at the same parties. And as you may eventually guess, this lead to the most intimate moment two people can share. And of course, as you may guess again, it didn’t happen only once, it happened here and there. For me, that was the biggest moment of my life. To share something so sacred with someone was definitely not a joke for me.

So why, you ask, did all of this become an eternity of heartache and a river’s worth of tears? I had spent the past four years loving this blond boy and sharing the most special of times with him all to find out that he was dating someone the whole time. Not only was he dating this girl and cheating on her with me, but cheating on her with other girls too. It broke my heart. I thought the feelings were mutual until one day I decided to tell him that I loved him. His response, “Aww, that’s sweet.” Excuse me? That’s sweet? I’m sorry, but that is the most ridiculous response I have ever heard! It was almost like I could see my heart falling out of my chest, hitting the ground, and breaking in to a million pieces. Then I saw him get up and walk all over those pieces, slowly grinding his foot in to each piece making it even smaller. It is so hard to describe the pain of loving someone and them not loving you back, just using you. But I’m sure it’s a pain that you have all felt at some time in your life. This crazy game of love.

I cried and cried and cried. I always cried in private, if that is even a possibility having to share a dorm room and a bathroom and a kitchen with others. I guess my only real place to really escape was the beach in the middle of the night. I went there countless times to cry and think. It is the place I feel closest to God since a lot of the miracles He performed were near water. I went out with friends. I said “screw it!” “He isn’t going to bring me down!” And slowly but surely, blond boy made his way out of my thoughts. My tears began to dry and I finally started to feel free. I found my niche, or should I say, it found me. Dancing. Salsa to be exact. Salsa dancing. Merengue. Cumbia. Bachata. I got dragged into it by some Spanish-speaking friends from the international house against my will, but it was because it was meant to be.

There were dancing classes every Wednesday night downtown at Barney’s and then free dance afterwards. It was a once a week thing that quickly became two to three times a week. I met so many great people. I fell in love with a few Mexicans. Yes it’s funny, but you don’t realize how attractive someone can be until you dance salsa with them. And yet even more, the thoughts of blond boy drifted away and I put him out of my life. He drifted to do what he wanted to do and soon all contact, even by phone stopped. And so life went on as it was intended to and I was happy that I had triumphed over a love that I thought had taken all the love I had and thrown it away.

Eventually I found a Mexican man that I loved very much. We were together all the time and that helped bury my thoughts of the blond boy way deep down. Deep down in a place I considered the place of no return. I guess the recipe was mix one part of blond hurt with one part of brown love and that cancels it all out. Hey, if I did take away one thing in my genetics class it was that brown eyes are a dominate gene. So it makes sense to me. One day in my bliss I received a call from the blond boy. Not again you say. I said that too. He wanted to hang out. I knew the pattern so I told him straight up that I was with someone and I didn’t want to ruin that. This happened several times until I believe he got the picture. The phone calls stopped again. And so I continued on in my love with the Mexican and wound up marrying him.

So you might be thinking, what could be better? Well, the relationship with the Mexican started going downhill. He drank. He got angry over the smallest things. Plus he left for Mexico for 6 months and left me and his child all alone. Needless to say, things weren’t going as planned. So then my sister calls me up one day, “Guess what I found on the internet? It’s this cool place where you can make a page and add friends and find lots of people from high school. Guess who messaged me once I made up my page?” Enter blond boy. Blond boy…its been a while. Not since that chance encounter I described at the beginning of this story had I seen him.

Okay, fine, call it peer pressure or what have you, but I caved and made a MySpace page. And of course, soon to follow was the add of the blond boy as a friend. Time passed. I was sitting at work and decided to check my MySpace page for any messages or comments. I get an instant message…it’s from the blond boy. He wants to know what I am doing for lunch today. He wanted to know if married people can have lunch. What do I say? What do I do? I accepted. I met him for lunch and we caught up on what each of us had done in the past years of no contact. Mind you, we are going on 13 years of knowing each other. As I sat there listening to him, I began to get an old feeling creeping up on me. I looked into his eyes and saw a sadness that didn’t used to be there. Almost a cry for help somewhere deep inside those blue eyes of his. Okay, Amanda, snap out of it. Don’t get carried away like before. But it seems like he has changed, he is different now. He has matured. Don’t be silly. He is still the same old player he used to be. So on went this conversation inside my head. A war between good and evil if you will. Those same feelings that got buried deep down somehow found an outlet to begin seeping out again. I left that restaurant thinking that he had changed and started wondering how life might have been different for us had we actually gotten together and made it as a couple.

For days the daydreams continued, but I thought there would be no hope. My marriage began to seriously go down hill and it seemed I had lost hope. I was searching and searching for a way out of this craziness in my heart and my only release was to write music. One night amongst my tears, a chorus came in my head. “I love you, just like yesterday. It’s impossible but I do it anyway. I love you like I did back then. And this love for you must stay locked within.” My husband and I separated and blond boy’s calls began to be more frequent.

Okay, back to read the whole thing. I think its good writing and you made me believe what you were feeling and it is interesting. But I think the content could be very hurtful to Raad. If it was me, I would be very hurt and it would be a reminder that I wasnt your "first big love". I know thats not what you were asking but since its obviously a true story...its sensitive IMHO

Stick with your writing though Amanda

I totally agree with Lisa. Right after I read your story, I glanced at your family photo and just thought poor Raad. It is a good story and makes you want to read on, but because it is true, if Raad reads this, even if he knows it is old, he still will probably be hurt.

[ya falaha! 0]

Oh how I adore handwritten notes! I cherish them because they are so uncommon anymore.

I agree with the rest, the story had a note of "pining" for a lost love and I would imagine it could hurt the husband.

This forum is NOT private and these types of things really shouldn't posted in public. Much like lots of other things shared in this particular thread.

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Im the reverse situation. I always got rid of my photos throughout the years - i tend to date similar type A "aggressive" types and the end to all prior relationships that i have had except for the superficial were BAD.... so i never wanted to remember and got rid of them. Meanwhile picture happy israelis chronicle every moment of their life so i have boxes and boxes of photos of my husbands life and i DO get jealous when i see his beautiful ex girlfriends! he dated some really gorgeous women. Not because he dated them, but because now I have no history of my ex boyfriends so share also!

I wish my ex had gotten rid of his love letters and photos. I guess my kids will never have to worry about love letters since no one sends snail mail love letters anymore. I can remember getting them in the mail and being so excited to read them. Waiting for the postman to come, etc. lol. Anyways I remember after I moved into his apt after we were married I stumbled upon "the drawer" that contained things from two of the love-of-his-life's. Well from that day forward I always compared myself to them. Drove me bonkers!

I love my blackberry facebook internet etc... but there is an interesting guy andrew something who writes about how social media is killing culture, and hes right! how awesome was it to smell the letter to see if it smelled like the guy!!! not going to happen anymore...

[amysaid 9]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Yeah, my husband grew up in a similar neighborhood... He knows that I dated, but doesn't really want evidence of it, y'know? My problem is going to be that my last ex before I got married was very involved with my daughter, so there are a lot of pictures of them together, which I hate to get rid of. I'm thinking maybe I'll just delete the ones of him and I, and stow away any of the ones with my daughter in them. Or crop them if I can He would definitely be upset to see them.

Edited September 12, 2009 by amysaid

[Y's_habibitk 2]

Oh how I adore handwritten notes! I cherish them because they are so uncommon anymore.

I agree with the rest, the story had a note of "pining" for a lost love and I would imagine it could hurt the husband.

This forum is NOT private and these types of things really shouldn't posted in public. Much like lots of other things shared in this particular thread.

She is right, others read this thread even though it seems like just a few ppl post here and it obviously is linked somewhere else now too

[morocco4ever 63]

Honestly I wouldn't post that story. My husband isn't super super jealous but if he ever read something like that I think it would hurt his feelings. That's just my two cents though and just my thoughts but bear in mind I got rid of everything related to my ex's before he came here just to avoid any type of issues. I did that because more than a few mena members were talking about how upset their husbands got when they found pics, love letters, etc. about old boyfriends. What's funny though is that we've gone through my photo albums together a few times now and each time he asks me why I don't have pics of my old boyfriends. lol. I do still have my wedding album but I had explained beforehand that the kids wanted me to keep it and since he knows how much I hate my ex he doesn't have a problem with it.

this is going to have to be one of my top priorities when we get home. i wasn't expecting A to come home with us, so i still have a lotttttt of photos and stuff on my computer that needs to be deleted. not because i was sitting around reminiscing over them, just because i am busy and didn't have time to weed through years of photos

Well it depends on your husband, you know? My husband grew up in a very strict muslim neighborhood where no one dated so I think for him to see the pictures, etc. he really wouldn't understand. Maybe he would, now I'll never know, but I'm glad I got rid of the old stuff.

Yeah, my husband grew up in a similar neighborhood... He knows that I dated, but doesn't really want evidence of it, y'know? My problem is going to be that my last ex before I got married was very involved with my daughter, so there are a lot of pictures of them together, which I hate to get rid of. I'm thinking maybe I'll just delete the ones of him and I, and stow away any of the ones with my daughter in them. Or crop them if I can He would definitely be upset to see them.

Is this last ex the father of your child? If so I think it would be unfair to delete any of the pictures. She should have them. And if he is the father, and your current husband has issues with that I think that would cross the line. I suspect by the way you worded it however that he was not the father, just active in her life. In which case I think you are making the best choice.

[ya falaha! 0]

Not "linked"...discussed. Yes, this thread is discussed elsewhere as are other topics found online. What is posted on the internet is fair game. You want your life to remain private.....don't post on the internet. I don't get why ppl are so bent out of shape when VJ topics are discussed elsewhere. This is not a private forum and it should be treated as such.

Oh how I adore handwritten notes! I cherish them because they are so uncommon anymore.

I agree with the rest, the story had a note of "pining" for a lost love and I would imagine it could hurt the husband.

This forum is NOT private and these types of things really shouldn't posted in public. Much like lots of other things shared in this particular thread.

She is right, others read this thread even though it seems like just a few ppl post here and it obviously is linked somewhere else now too

[Amoon 0]

I guess I am too open hearted and open minded, very caring and considerate and feel like sharing my feelings...the story I wrote was very very old and all of those old feels have now been left in the past. I was actually trying to go through my files and find the feeling I wrote on 9-11 right after it happened 8 years ago. I came across the short story I posted and thought I would share to get idea of what people thought of my writing...didn't think I would open a can of worms. I initally came on to VJ almost a year ago for help with my own visa journey and for support. But lately I have seen how backstabbing, rude and just down right mean people can be...rather than lending an ear to vent to or just offering advice on how to fill out a form...etc. Its not like it used to be on here. I have met some wonderful women-Lisa, Jackie, Olivia, Beth, Sharifah, Tamara, Tasha, Kenza, Sandrila, Maureen, Jeanne...etc. But I believe it is also the time for me now to exit Visa Journey for a while.

Take care everyone and feel free to talk to me on facebook.

Love you ladies here in this MENA forum and I wish you all the best and pray that you are reunited with your loved ones soon if haven't been already.

[LaL 418]

Its not like it used to be on here.

The only difference between now and when I joined in 2004 is that this site has slightly gravitated more towards socially connecting with people vs. immigration discussions. Nothing else.

[doodlebugg 10]

I guess I am too open hearted and open minded, very caring and considerate and feel like sharing my feelings...the story I wrote was very very old and all of those old feels have now been left in the past. I was actually trying to go through my files and find the feeling I wrote on 9-11 right after it happened 8 years ago. I came across the short story I posted and thought I would share to get idea of what people thought of my writing...didn't think I would open a can of worms. I initally came on to VJ almost a year ago for help with my own visa journey and for support. But lately I have seen how backstabbing, rude and just down right mean people can be...rather than lending an ear to vent to or just offering advice on how to fill out a form...etc. Its not like it used to be on here. I have met some wonderful women-Lisa, Jackie, Olivia, Beth, Sharifah, Tamara, Tasha, Kenza, Sandrila, Maureen, Jeanne...etc. But I believe it is also the time for me now to exit Visa Journey for a while.

Take care everyone and feel free to talk to me on facebook.

Love you ladies here in this MENA forum and I wish you all the best and pray that you are reunited with your loved ones soon if haven't been already.

For real??? Geez Louise no one here was saying anything bad about you and I'm sorry but I felt that maybe you should ask for the post to be removed so that you wouldn't run into problems with your husband. I honestly don't see that you were attacked at all but whatever. Sometimes people do need a break from vj. Hell knows I've taken a few myself.