Wednesday, October 15, 2008

someone. someone knows me.

someone wrote a story for me. no. someone wrote the story of his past for me. a certain time in his past. because somehow he knows me. and somehow i know him. his story made me feel so weak and vulnerable and more aware of how many of us are all alone even when surrounded by loved ones. though people think they know me, they dont. ive always covered myself with other qualities and attributes that make up a superficial layer. my costume for the masses. my first instinct was to run, as usual. to fight that weakness by building a more impenetrable costume. but this time i couldnt. i was trapped.

i think his story made me feel weak because it ripped those layers off and i was left standing exposed. i stood there wide open.

but so did he.


  1. Asalamalaykom Sister Jana,

    I do feel that you were touched by someone else's words. That connection is bittersweet, in that you are still alone.

    Be careful for whom you are being wide open. Think to yourself if you have enough emotional strength to withstand being hurt. Do you have enough in reserves if this person lets you down?

    I trust NO women either. I only trust Allah and trust people through Allah.

    I continue to wish you the best.

  2. i have nothing to gain or lose from the person who wrote the story. he just wanted to let me know there are other people in the world that are like me.

  3. Dear Yosra,

    I doubt that my short story is going to be viewed as anything but claptrap by most who read it.

    Rest assured that I don't want anything from our friend and host, Sistah Jana Z.. I've been happily married for a dozen years with children. It was just a little interesting that we happened to be thinking along the same lines at the same time.