Almost Always, but Never Everything

Writer: Hania Mostafa

Editor: Ahmed Ashry

Picture Credits: Ahmed Ashry

To my favorite what if,

Well, this is hard. There’s a reason why I’m writing this right now. The reason is that I simply can’t take the unspoken words and the silence anymore. I don’t even know if you’re ever gonna see this. I’m not sure if I even want you to see this, but at least, I’ll be satisfied and not suffocated with words that I wish I would’ve spoken out loud.

You were always there. You were always this great existence in my life, as an amazing friend or… I don’t know what to call you, honestly. I just know that we could’ve been more; we could’ve been so much more. You were great, but you could’ve been breathtakingly amazing. If you just talked, if you just spoke. If…

I’m not putting the full blame on you, absolutely not, but I’m putting it on both of us. Yeah I could’ve talked too. We were like this mysterious, but still beautiful box waiting to be opened, begging to be opened. But sadly, we didn’t open it. We didn’t try opening it.
I know this wasn’t easy for you. I know that. This is how I know that this was mutual.

I saw it in the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t looking. You didn’t know that your face was reflected on the glass window in front of me. But it was and I saw your expression, your pained, tortured expression.

I saw it in the way you always wanted to hold my hand. Even though we never did that in the way couples do it naturally. You always found an excuse to do it, and when the excuse ends, your hands linger a couple of seconds more before letting go…

I saw it in the way you almost said it. Yes I knew it. I knew in the moment you almost said it but decided not to do so. I don’t know why you decided not to say anything at the end because I would’ve said “Me too. Forever and always”. But let’s add this to the list of unspoken words, shall we?

I just want you to know that you ALMOST became my world. You ALMOST became so much more. But we can’t go back in time, can we? That’s why I keep wondering everyday “What if? What if I talked? What if you talked? What if? What if? What if?”

Even if I have no idea what to call you, no idea what you are. Even if I’m so mad at myself for that. Even if I’m so mad at you for that.

You’ll never stop being my favorite “what if”.