That first kiss...

I don't remember it well, but I remember in the elevator I could feel the ache of wanting to hold and kiss him, I could feel him leaning and resisting to want to kiss me.. like to magnets at a certain distance not close enough to be glued to each other yet at a shivering distance shaking in anticipation of the attraction and what it may cause..

In the car, he approached me and held me and then gently, like a dream, his mouth drew my breath into him, the tenderest moment before the tiny gasp that tempts the tongues to dance a tango of love and lust. The headiness was a drunken stupor that I'd never experienced in youth from the real first kiss (which I barely remember) it was a tipsy feeling, the beginning of getting high, the eyes resist opening as if in knowledge of the real world staring right back at it, the heart not pumping but gliding at a melodic speed like an ice rink freshly swept.. before any skater laid their blades on it, creamy white... the ears hear nothing but the short breath intermittent with the butterfly kisses.

No it was not hunger nor thirst, it was a leisurely feeling of slow intoxication and wanting to lose oneself further in to this whirlwind highway to the stars.. his hands reach for my upper arms, my body was alert, he was expert enough to not reach for my nipples from the first kiss, my bod arched to him, aching for his nearness, I devoured his mouth and he mine, my hunger was from years of not feeling as alive as I did when he touched me.. I forgot that I can feel this way...I was dancing in my mind and in his arms, a dance of passion performed centuries ago as the tales were woven and the veils unfolded and the pants twisted...

I needed more kisses, I needed to catch up, I needed to tease him and turn him in to what he's turned me!! what I loved more was his amazing self control, that drove me further in to my drug-less state of the sublime...

He started a fairy tale of centuries ago

He didn't call that night, nor Blackberry Message me, he waited and SMS'd me the day after the next day... yes it felt that long.. I knew he really liked me, I was eager but had to wait.. we exchanged messages light banter till he finally said I want to see you tomorrow.

He then started weaving his spell..

He said" where have you been all my life? I've known you since you were the fairytale princess Shahrazade and I was Shariyar.. where have you been and why did it take you so long to reach me.."

we met and he was the perfect gentleman, looking long enough in my eyes, being very caring, choosing the dishes that I like, holding a silence in his eyes.. whilst they plunged deeply into my soul... my lenses hurt that night and I kept blinking..

Hope and failure

A man once said “life is like a box of chocolates. You don’t know what you are going to get”. With men you know what you are going to get.

You know you are going to get excited when you see them and daydream incessantly about them.
You know they will ask you on a date and then not arrange anything on said day.
You know they are going to use that line “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”.
You know they are going to hurt you eventually.
You know you all the above and will fall for it hook line and sinker every single time.

My problem is that I don’t want to go back to being disillusioned and cynical like I was in my twenties, but each time I meet a new guy my hopes skyrocket and then reality comes crashing down to earth in a very short space of time. I was happier being cynical than being the clown which I have now become.

How do you find the balance between hope and failure without feeling like a pathetic idiot each week or month you meet a new man and go on a date?

This week met guy I had dated the week before. Hadn’t heard from him properly in the week since our date, but when we met he was charming, attentive and the kiss on the cheek was very close to my lips. The feelings of happiness overshadowed the lack of communication that week. If one of my friends had been having this moment, I would have said “snap out of it and ignore him”, but I couldn’t. I had to be near him like a honey bee to pollen. And then he touched me on my cheek. That one gentle touch reminded me of this tender side and all sensible parts of me dissolved. It dissolved even more when he kissed me on the lips. His delicate touch brushing my lips made me long for him even more than I had felt all week. He asked me out on another date for the next day and I immediately said yes. Of course, I would say yes to have the opportunity to be with him again.

He never called to confirm date plans. Just texted me to say he was busy.

Now I’m angry and resentful for opening up and allowing him near me; near enough to remember the smell of his skin and the feel of his lips. I keep on thinking why did I go near him, why did talk I him, why did I let him touch me???

There seems to be this need for guys to do this to me. I know I’m evocative, seductive and seem very strong, but inside I’m a crumbling mess. I want to be happy, I want to share myself with someone, I want to be open, but why do men take this as a sign to come and play with me and my emotions?

I said to myself before the last date that I wasn’t dating for a while and that I would have a rest from men. I forgot this decision the moment I got asked out. I need to be strong and resist the urge to say yes each time a guy gives me some attention. The attention is fleeting and the heartache is long lasting. I’ve now decided it is better to be alone (and lonely) than crushed each week.

Let’s see how long this lasts.

To mutilate or not to mutilate ...that is the question.

The following keeps on happening when I meet men nowadays:

1. They are always younger than me.
2. They state immediately that they don't want a relationship, but then ask me out on a date.
3. They are all different and not tall dark and handsome (which was my standard before).
4. I end up spending the night with them (but not always reaching a home run).
5. I end up being their friend.

Why do I do this to myself? Is this the new form of self-mutilation?

I can confirm that if you do the above, guaranteed you will mutilate your heart and soul once again.

I know that I'm doing the above and yet I still keep on doing it. I met a guy. We flirted, we chatted, and we realised that we fancied each other. Just at the moment when the lightbulb flashed on for both of us, he told me he didn't want a relationship. Now he knows me and he knows that I am looking for a relationship so he wanted to make it clear to me which was fair enough and I respected him for that. But then he asked me out! I could have said no, but nope I had to say yes.

Admittedly, I fancied him, I was wondering what he was like underneath his clothes and I wanted to spend time with him alone away from the maddening crowd, but I should have said no. Instead I did the above 5 points and bam, suffered.

With self-mutilation I still have this (maybe misguided) belief that after all these dates and disasters that one of these guys will actually turn out to be the shining star instead of the rotten egg. Do I say no to all offers of dates to prevent my head being a mess afterwards, or do I keep on saying yes in the hope that maybe one day I will meet THE man?

Try a little tenderness

The thought that keeps on travelling around in my day dreaming head (other than why has he not called), is the image of him waking up in the middle of the night due to my restlessness. He didn’t complain that I had woken him up or that I had cold feet. He said nothing, but kissed my shoulder tenderly, wrapped himself around me and fell asleep again. I felt protected, safe and less of a pain in the butt.

In the morning, there is the usual expectation that the guy will wake up and not want to cuddle or kiss, especially when you are new next to him in his bed. I have seen the face of men wondering who the hell I am (one of those soul crushing moments). He surprised me with his tender kisses as a morning greeting and a continuation throughout the morning whilst we got ready to see the new day. Every so often he would stand in front of me, hold my face and kiss me.

Should I take the moment as a lucky respite from the cruel world of dating and move on, or can I dwell on them for longer. He has already been a typical man and informed me that he doesn’t want a relationship. I’m not the kind of lady who can try and convince Him that I am worth having a relationship with. I have tried before and failed. I don’t know how to play the dating game. All I know is how to be me.

There is a part of me inside this cold veneer that would love to have that tenderness more often in my life.

Put your hands up and your lips where I can see them!

There is much talk recently about the expats being caught kissing in public and the sexual text messages. OK insinuating circumstances and we mustn't take these expats cases to reflect our own lives but how do you date when you know you might be caught at any time by the police.

There has always been this view that we are living in a liberal country compared to places like Saudi Arabia, but with the hiring of a Saudi man to be the "Moral minister" last year are we destined to go the same way?

I have met couples who have walked down the streets of Satwa and Bur Dubai with their other half, been stopped by the police and asked if they are a couple. Of course these people being honest have said yes and ended up in jail for a few days. They are not doing anything immoral or indecent just walking down the streets, maybe looking for a bite to eat or just walking and chatting but they have been arrested!

How can you advertise yourself as a liberal free thinking city and then turn on expats who help build your economy for something like this? If they are half naked and humping on a beach, then yes these people should be put in jail and then kicked out of the country.

We are already subjected to guidelines now when we enter malls on how to dress appropriately (not that the Russians are taking the slight bit of notice to the posters). But what next? Guidelines on going out at night with members of the opposite sex. And what will happen if you go on a date?

It's a problem when you go on dates. You might not want to go back to his/your place after the first date to show you are a lady and not an easy shag but still want to kiss him. But you can't peck on the lips let alone have the first proper kiss in this town. You could get a lift home with your date and kiss him in the car, but if you are dating a local and its obvious from his number plate, for sure there will be cops following you to your house (trust me it has happened to me a few times).

So the next option is getting a taxi back to his place, but if your hormones are as wild as mine of course one thing is going to lead to another. Not a good start if you want this man to be more than a one night stand.

Then the next worry is leaving his place. There seems to be a new fad with men kicking the woman out of his pad after a few hours, as they want to have a good night’s sleep without you snuggling up to them. So you walk out at sunrise and try and get a taxi. Who knows if someone is watching you in your clubbing gear looking a bit dishevelled?

I could say that maybe we should go back to courting, but in the age of real time information via twitter and multiple phones to access anyone and everyone globally; can we really be expected to be patient when dating? Maybe it's the way to go though. No holding hands, no kissing, just good conversation, good wine, and a friendly wave goodbye after a wonderful date. It might mean he will call you back sooner...

Dating in another land

In a land with a melting pot of people you would think that it would be easy to find a man especially with a ratio of six men to one woman. There are men of all types and varieties for our delectable fancy, and if you choose not to be picky you can have a guy a night. But what do you do when you have morals, respect for yourself and are not stupidly stupid?

There are many issues we have to contend with when dating in this age of post SATC education. To be living here alone away from family and friends, means that I have to be independent and strong but it also puts a greater emphasis on the loneliness that is felt inside and the need to have someone in your life to share this strange city with.

The city is a transition city for many people. Friends come and go back to their land of origin, a new land or heaven/hell via the main highway. So you meet people who might be perfect and on the same wavelength, but don't want to commit due to the fear that they may leave at any time or that there are other women around the corner out there who are less intelligent but "easier" to date.

I've dated, I've loved and I am now at the stage in my life when I don't want to date someone new every month listen to them spout garbage classic such as "I don't want a relationship right now" or "it's not you it's me (they are usually right on that one") or whatever else they might come up with from FHM. I just want to have someone to snuggle up to after a long day, someone I can relate to, eat and drink with, laugh with and of course have copious amounts of naked time with but it seems to be a struggle to find that guy.

There seem to be more taxi lights on in this town, but like the taxis, the guys never stop. They just keep on moving.

A funky night in the old town...

as usual my friend Hazem asked me to join him at the usual place, with the usual faces around and the funky DJ playing sounds from our souls - spinning his virtual records on a display screen from his MAC ... Arabic and jazz, some blue modern olds and a few odds too.

I was, as usual, late.. I walked in remembering a couple of lines of spoken word from a long time ago:

"As she walked across

the St. Germaine

all dressed in white

she was wrapped so tight

and I swore I could kneel

between the arch

and heel

of her shoe.."

yes it was one of those nights where my confidence factor was quite high, for no reason at all, just a sense of nonchalance that gave me that unidentifiable arch in my back and rise of my breasts as Maya would so eloquently say... so I walked in smiled widely and made my apologies all around.

I sat myself closer to Hazem, next to him sat Marissa, next to her Hamid and next to him this person that I wasn't acquainted with... he smiled I thought: hmmm he will seem like an interesting prospect to have a delightful encounter with. I had no intention of being heart broken again. Either serious or not at all.

I thought, ok he's not bad looking, cute in a chubby way... I was not svelte, I would be what you would call Reubenesque-ly voluptuous. He seemed eagerly interested in me to the verge of asking me straight out for my number... I smiled.. the faeries and elves of nonchalance were smiling wider and actually grinning... the butterflies were tingling in my tummy causing an unexpected shiver to electrify my inner nerves connecting my whole being from where Venus had a mound named after her to aureoles of milky tea crowning the highest nerves of sensitivity..

I thought he will call that night

Cliché of a virgin wall

Should I really start first without my friend being here? I guess I could.. we will be sharing a lot of information and details from now onwards, well sharing it with whomever will read it.

As we sat chatting later in the afternoon at a cafe not so far away from some yet far from others we were sharing details.. well some are naughty.. but I'll let her tell you about that night.. it was sensually steamy.. Her words will certainly better describe it!

As for me.. well I will share some of my past glories as with time I have become more soft and therefore, more prone to being hurt much more frequently.. i may also share some slight escapades, feelings, sentiments and pure raw emotions and feelings or even frustrations.

I can start with 'him'. Lets call him Harith. Why Harith? well I love the name and it's quite typical to where my origins are from.. I am quite passionate about that far away fairy tale land and love it to death! So back to Harith... yes, he did break my heart... five months later and I can't seem to get him out of my mind.

The problem was that I believed him! it's easy! He'd said the magic words and voila! I was not eating out of the palms of his hands but gently nibbling his ears and placing delicate kisses on his forehead and delighting at the taste of his delightful mouth.. Yes his mouth was delightful in many ways! when he smirked and grinned, when he spoke but mostly when he kissed me the first time in his car, and then in the same elevator of the restaurant where he was dying to kiss me the time before, and many more times in his car and his apartment and.. the last time in a cold worn out hotel room where his lips touched mine longingly for the last time..

It all started in a funky restaurant in the old town...