26/4/25
I decided to limit contact with him. A week was the most we managed and just a week later, I got a text from him saying that he was leaving for good, that he was no longer going to be at the organization. I thought I would be happy since I was getting an excuse to stay away from him, but it turned out to be the complete opposite. I missed him already and he was still here at the moment. My last text to him was so bad and I accidentally deleted it, which made things worse. After that day, we didn't talk and the guilt kept creeping up. I was torn between keeping a distance or losing him forever. I never thought I would be this bad with goodbyes. I knew I was, but not this bad.
27/4/25, Sunday
I texted him yesterday to get rid of this guilt that I had. I realized a PhD wasn't something I wanted, but I couldn't accept the fact that he was leaving, and in doing so, not only was I making myself sad, but I was also subconsciously thinking of ways that I could do what he was doing, just so I'd still somehow be close to him. I didn't realize how much it was affecting me until very late, until I actually fixed it. So I texted him yesterday saying how busy I was and congratulating him again. He sent four replies, but by the time I responded, he had deleted three of them and left it hanging at "thanks, it's okay." Which was fine since that was what I wanted anyway. Low commitment, yet not fighting. And even if there was fighting, at least it wouldn't be because of me.
Over the weekend, I realized something else too. I used to like him, yes, but with how things were now, that liking had disappeared. Yet I still missed the time we spent at the library together. It was as if he was a different person back then. I didn't imagine them both as one person when I thought of them. It was the guy I fell for, the cute one with long, wavy hair that stood out despite everything being a blur, and then this other person who I came to know after both of our work lives started.
Maybe that was why things felt so different. We were both in our relaxation era back then. I had decided to learn and relax, and he was the epitome of that. That was why I had approached him in the first place. Even our last days at the library were on the same day. Those official breaks were gone. He had been offered to work at his college while my house job was starting. Though later on he didn't accept the offer, his father made it so that he at least worked. So both of us had started working.
I was free because it was Ramadan, and he was too, since all he had to do was go to a construction site. Life was still good back then. We were working but not quite. The gap was there, we didn't talk much, didn't have much in common to talk about. But it was still good, actual life hadn't yet started.
Then he joined an NGO as a head. I was obviously very amused by this. The idea of working for a non-profit was something I had always done and admired. I just didn't know you could get paid for that. And then came my first shift. He was two years older than me, so obviously he'd be earning faster. Technically, I was getting paid in my house job too, but that didn't count, and I couldn't count it, and that bothered me. Something I was supposedly good at, someone else got just like that.
Though later on, after seeing him work, I could tell why he did and I didn't, it was still frustrating. It felt like I was working way too hard yet not getting anything in return. That feeling of being inadequate was seeping in and it refused to leave. The reason, I think, was because he had made it so clear that he had no will to work and wasn't motivated either, and that's what bothered me. People ran after him, were drawn to him, he got job offers, proposals, casual suggestions to be in relationships. People ran after him while I ran after people. Even my patients at that time—I literally had to beg them to get treatment done. And here he was, getting every job offered to him, and he kept on refusing.
Maybe that's why the PhD thing bothered me this much too. Because when we were talking, he had briefly mentioned that the other option was a PhD, but he had mentioned it in a way that made it seem like it didn't matter, as if it wasn't important, and that he might consider it. But just the other day, he told me he got in. It felt like a stab. I had prepared myself for living in fuqr (like he mentioned), had even convinced myself and my family that money didn't matter, that one should live without it. I was even willing to live with him had he no money. But I guess that was the issue. He never mentioned anything like that, while that was all I could think of.
He hadn't made any mentions of commitment, but I had approached him with that intent from day one. And throughout that month, every time we met, that's what I was thinking about. About living with him, marrying him, thinking what he'd be like as a father. I was down bad.
28/4/25
I think what I was feeling for him in that month was limerence. It was the perfect time. There were two times where I felt sad after meeting him, but overall, it was very good and satisfying and calm. I really enjoyed his company and how I could relax in his company and relax in general too. And though I miss his company, I think I miss the person that I was with him too. Way more than I should.
The same was with my old best friend. I missed her, yes, but I also missed who I was when I was with her and how that made me feel. But like her case, that time lasted for some time, and it was great, but that was it.