A brief walk down memory lane

My college… where I first felt independent, where somehow I realized on my own that people’s opinions didn’t matter, where I made strong friendships with H and K, where I liked spending time with my colleagues but didn’t make friends with most of them!

Where all the people I kept at a distance used to call me “tenka” and “aleeta”, while those I let in knew better! But both agreed that I was the toughest in my group and that I took shit from no one; friends or foes.

Where I fought with H (over the silliest thing ever) and let stupid N and malicious N get in the way. Where I totally ignored her as stupid N took her side and malicious N took mine.

N and her Libra influence on me!! Very few people influence me that way, and I am not so proud I was influenced by her, but I learned a lot; I learned that when you keep crossing that thin line between your morals and ethics and the things you simply rationalize, you no longer see the line.

I am glad H and I talked again, and I am very grateful our friendship became stronger and I am very ashamed she forgave me for having a ‘gazma adeema’ of a brain. Thanks H, you’re the best college gave me really!

My college memories were never something I would hide from! Except because of him! Thanks to him, I’ve been avoiding passing there because it is also where he had his MBA classes and first started dating behind my back. Since I found out, I couldn’t help but tear up every time I pass there, so I simply avoided the whole place and went around it every time there was an errand to run.

Yesterday I passed there… I had to park my car exactly where I used to back in college days! I had to get out and walk in the same streets I once walked as a young girl who thought the world was hers. I didn’t feel like the world wasn’t mine anymore, but for some reason I kept looking down and checking where my feet were!

I had a meeting in the same place I had my katb ketab party! I walked into the same ballroom to see the settings. I didn’t know what my face conveyed really; I simply can’t remember if I smiled or just looked blankly! But as I walked back to my car and passed by where I once picked him up the day I told him the sex of my first baby, I pulled the breaks and allowed that thought to surface: when he had tears in his eyes and kissed my hand, was it because he was happy, or was it because he felt guilty about two timing me?

Then I drove my way shaking off the thought… it doesn’t matter now, does it? It shouldn’t matter; it wouldn’t change a thing really. And so, I played Souad Massi’s Khsara 3aleik and let the streets leading to home soothe me.

I think I just got my college memories back and I can visit them any time I like now without his memory blocking my thinking.