LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD (1)

"This kind of life is not meant for the good girl. Try as I might, in the end it's a cruel world." 

- Hollywood's Dead, Lana del Rey 

I hate to admit that I am one of those girls your girlfriend, your wife, your mom, your sisters – basically every woman in your life warns you about. I fell in love with a husband. Not mine of course, or else I won’t be writing about it now. Somebody else’s.

 

Women are not complicated beings, at least in my opinion. We know what we want, but usually we play dumb because dumb bitches are cute. No, don’t argue with me on that one. Furthermore, girls play dumb because they want to give their man that feeling of superiority, of masculinity from wanting to protect these fragile stupid creatures. As much as girls love to play dumb, men love to play hero. What is love if not make believe? 

First off, we clearly know what we want, the only reason guys think we’re complicated is because we hide our true intentions in our elaborate plans of tantrums, crosswords puzzles and riddles. We want men, our men to figure us out, every girl wants to be mysterious…ish at least. 

Me, being the sophisticated lady in my late 20s has outgrown all these stupid phases of playing games. I go straight to the kill.

You see, I have my own method of screening guys. I’d rather be alone than having to end up with the wrong man. My methodology consists of a few tests, and not many have passed them all. Many failed at the first one. 

The first impression matters the most. If I do not like what I see, there is no point of going deeper than meets the eye – and nose, and ear. I have to like how he smells, how he sounds like, more than just his looks. Sometimes I give pass if his voice stirs my womanity more than his looks does. I do not attribute this to shallowness, instead this is just personal preferences. 

The second test would be intelligence. Mind you, brain is sexier than brawn. I do not consider myself as a genius, and having a man who is at least at par with my own level of intelligence would be a requirement. I want to talk about the universe, JFK assassination, different genres of Americana-inspired music, Reddit culture, my favourite authors and their miserable genius.

The third test is chemistry. Some people could talk about many things with you, but the conversation could be as tedious as listening to a lecture. I do not want that. It’s not about boringness of a person or his energy level. I’ve met shy guy who conversed better with me more than those loud ones. It’s about complementing each other’s presence and enjoying each other’s company in both silence and conversation. 

The fourth test would be the most important one yet. His desire. I would never, I repeat, I would never pursue a guy who doesn’t show his interest in me, even after he passes all the previous tests. As much as a sophisticated lady that I am, I do not stick my nose where I don’t belong. I will tease that guy a bit, very very subtle hints. An accidental gentle touch here and there, harmless smiles, teasing jokes. You could see how he wants you in his eyes if he really wants you after you teased him. If I don’t see that sparkle, then game over. I don’t really mind. Like I said, I would rather be alone than ending up with the wrong one.

Contrary to what I’ve explained, I usually am very passive in my love-seeking adventure. These 4 tests usually apply when I am attracted to a guy, and I would usually use these tests to rule these guys out instead of justifying a pursuit. I’m too lazy and also, I hate the heartbreak that ensues. 

Thus this leads to my story of falling in love with another woman’s husband. This story shall not justify what happens. It only serves as a reminder to all of us that human sin, and we could not control our emotions despite our best efforts. And ultimately, perhaps in a love triangle, there are actually no people to blame.  

I thought my 4 tests were perfect beyond doubts, that I could use them over and over to weed out men from my life until I realized one day that it was unprepared for one thing; the wildcard that I shall call the X-factor. 

This guy from my workplace has the X-factor. It was his religion. 

I must admit, I’m a wild girl. Not in the social vice sense, no. I’m not the party girl nor the junkie girl, but I am not timid either. I stand loud and proud, I have no fears in life. I could dance and sing to my heart content. I have a wild soul. I’m an eloquent English speaker who graduated from an abroad university and speaks her heart out, I’m an adventurous girl who feels at home in nature. 

I pray 5 times a day nevertheless, and pay my zakat and fast during Ramadan, but I was never addicted to my religion the way he is. 

The way he carries himself makes people label him the Ustaz. And he was rightfully one. I was attracted to him the first time I laid my eyes on him. Right off the bat, he passes all my tests. I love the way he looks. His daring scent of Polo. The subtle hint of romanticism in his voice. 

He was intelligent alright. A degree in Mechatronic Engineering. Our first conversation was about heat transfer and the climate change. Not that we didn’t transfer any heat amongst us at that moment nor the climate of our relationship drastically changed. 

Chemistry? Absolutely. Our level of energy matches one another’s, though quite different in orientation. Him the James Deen 50’s Hollywood cool aura, me the eccentric crazy girl. Him the acid and I’m the base. 

And his desire of me was evident the way his eyes glimmer. 

For me, what attracts us to one another is the mysteriousness of the other’s world. He married his university heartthrob, a fellow religious girl they met from usrah and they have three children together. Their world revolves around the next, so to speak. His life was different than mine. A stable, exemplary family. How he talks in calmness and with words in remembrance of God, the way he behaves gracefully according to sunnah.

It was a mystery demanding to be unraveled. 

And he was attracted to my world, the chaotic nature beyond the boundaries of serenity. For him my world is strange, a girl like me is mysterious. I’m not the girl next door. I do not conform to the stereotypes of the girls he met along his life. He wanted to understand more. 

We did not flirt nor did we teased the first time around. I spent a huge amount of my time for work assignments with him professionally. But the attraction we felt for each other was imminent, inevitable, intense. 

We were both matured adults who understood well the magnitude of unfaithfulness. At the same time, we were both human beings who were being tested by God with our own betraying feelings. 

We did not admit it to each other, though I could feel it within my bones. We were trying to work around it, we did not talk about it at all. No confessions, no monkey business. We just knew we meant something for each other. I thought just like other crushes, this one will go away if I ignored it long enough. 

He began to occupy my memories, my thoughts, my dreams. I hated myself for liking him the way I did. 

But what was interesting to me was that his wife was never in the equation. This is not a tale of betrayal, of a love triangle. He did not do it in spite of his wife. I did not do this in spite of his wife. This is the story of two responsible adults, trying to work their way out of their own feelings. This is the story of two people’s natural, raw emotions for each other, no external factors whatsoever. It is as primal instinct as a mother’s love to her child.  

Women are not complicated human beings. I understood what I wanted.

 

…to be continued