Chapitre 1: La depression

Je suis comme un volcan eteint. Je ne fais plus peur. Je ne crie plus. Je ne crache plus. Je suis comme morte, oubliee, delaissee.
Chaque jour qui passe est un jour comme les autres: je me leve, je me bouge, je travaille, je rentre, je mange, je dors. Je parle des fois mais je ne sais meme pas ce que je dis. Je ris parfois mais je ne le sens pas dans mon corps. J'ai perdu gout aux belles choses, aux bonnes choses. Je ne veux plus de rien. J'aurais ete courageuse, je me serais suicidee: quelques comprimes avales et j'en finirais. Mais j'ai peur du noir. Pire que le noir, j'ai peur de DIEU. Que vais je lui repondre si il me demande pourquoi je me suis suicidee? Va-t-il me rire au nez si je lui repondais que c'etait a cause d'un garcon, d'un homme plutot? Ou se mettrait Il en colere face a ma stupidite? De toutes les facons, je ne peux ni ne veux me tuer. Je veux juste sombrer de plus en plus dans ma depression et ne plus en sortir. Je veux m'accrocher a mon chagrin comme une boue de sauvetage. Il me tient compagnie. Je le nourris de crises de pleurs, de crises de colere silencieuses, de pains, de fromage, de beurre car rien ne me fais plus plaisir qu'un pain beurre au fromage quand j'ai mal. Certains aiment les gateaux, d'autres le chocolat ou meme le vin, moi je noie mon changrin avec des pains beurres au fromage. Je vis ma depression seule et plus mon ventre s'arrondit et plus j'ai mal. Mais je souffre en silence.
Il est facile de souffrir en silence quand on a personne qui s'inquiete de vous. Mais malheureusement ce n'etait pas mon cas. J'avais une Mere, un Pere, des Freres, des Soeurs, des Amies qui se melaient de tout et de rien. Ceux sont ces personnes qui frappent a ma porte alors que je voulais rester dans ma chambre. Les memes encore qui entrent dans ma chambre sans attendre que je les invite. Ils me tirent du lit et me poussent a sortir. Ils m'empechent de devorer encore plus de pains beurres au fromage et me forcent a aller courir sur la VDN. Ils sont chiants; ils m'emmerdent; ils m'empechent de vivre ma depression. J'ai beau protester mais rien n'y fait. Ils ne me laisseront jamais seule dans ma souffrance. Il faut dire que c'est de ma faute. J'ai prefere etre ouverte dans ma relation avec cet homme. Tout le monde le connaissait dans mon entourage. Je n'ai jamais cache mon amour en son egard. De plus j'ai avoue mes attentes a toute oreille ouverte. Et a present que tout etait fini, je ne pouvais pas esperer souffrir en silence. Cet homme ne m'avait pas seulement trahi; je l'ai aide a tromper ma famille et mes amies aussi.
Mon portable sonne et me tire de ma debaucherie.
-Allo!
Une voix roque et plutot forte m'ouvre les yeux
-Khadi! Ne me dis pas que tu es encore couchee!
- Qu'est ce que tu veux Aicha?
- Qu'e...Qu'est ce que je veux? Bou ma fonte de Xalebi! Tu as vu l'heure? Il est 16h presque et tu es encore couchee?
Je me redresse sur mon lit car je sentais que cette conversation allait etre longue, puis j'ajoute:
- Il est 15h45. Et alors?
-Et alors? crie Aicha. Et alors? On est samedi le 17 Juillet. Tu es sensee m'accompagner au mariage de la petite soeur de mon beau frere dans moins d'une heure et tu es toujours au lit. Yaboma sakh! Faut il que je vienne te botter les fesses et blah blah blah...
Il faut que vous sachiez quelque chose au sujet de Aicha: depuis le jour ou je l'ai rencontre en 1985, ou elle avait a peine quatre ans elle a menace de me botter les fesses. Elle a failli le faire une ou deux fois mais elle s'est toujours desistee au dernier moment. Il va s'en dire que cette menace ne me fais plus d'effet. Donc j'etais prete a me recoucher en la laissant vociferer ses insultes. Malheureusement, j'avais oublie qu'elle avait des allies dans ma maison en l'occurence ma Maman. Cette derniere ouvre la porte de ma chambre sans crie garde et jette sur le lit une robe que je n'avais jamais vu. Elle prend le telephone, explique a Aicha qu'elle allait elle meme me botter les fesses, raccroche le telephone et me jette un regard qui meme apres 30 ans me glace toujours le corps.
- Tu vas te lever et aller a ce mariage vite fait bien fait ou gares a toi.
Puis elle sort de ma chambre comme si de rien n'etait. Je me leve d'un bond et me dirige vers la salle de bains. Vous savez la difference entre Aicha et ma Mere est que Aicha parles trop et ne fais rien alors que ma Mere parle peu et fait beaucoup. Si elle m'ordonne d'aller a un mariage, depression ou pas, je vais m'executer.
  Je prends une douche rapidement et puis je me mets a me decorer: une touche de fonds de teint par ci, un fard par la, un peu de mascara et rouge a levres et je suis a nouveau presque presentable. Je regarde la robe delaissee sur mon lit et je me demande comment je vais enfiler ce saucisse avec mes kilos en trop. C'est la derniere tendance ces robes qui collent a la peau, qui sont si serrees qu'elles coupent la circulation sanguine sans compter tout le systeme respiratoire. Il n'est pas question que j'enfile ca. J'ouvre mon armoire et vais a la recherche de quelque chose de plus gentil a mon corps endolori. Je fouine et je fouine et je finis par tomber sur une robe babydoll a fleurs. Elle est tellement jolie cette robe, toute simple mais elegante. Elle me rappelle tant de souvenirs aussi, de mauvais souvenirs: une St Valentin ratee, une scene, un scandale, des cris, des coups, des larmes. Tout ca je veux oublier mais je n'ai pas le choix, je ne veux absolument pas mettre la saucisse. Que dis toujours Soxna: on doit souffrir pour etre belle. Idiote! Bah! Je vais souffrir mais pas par vanite. J'enfile la robe babydoll aux mauvais souvenirs. Qui sait si cette reception se passe bien, peut etre que cette robe sera connue comme la robe du mariage de la petite soeur du beau frere de Aicha et non comme la robe de la St Valentin ratee. J'ai juste le temps d'enfiler mes talons aux noeuds a bling rose qu'Aicha entre dans ma chambre. Personne ne frappe plus donc sur cette terre! Elle me regarde de la tete aux pieds ou devrais- je qu'elle me jauge. Puis elle se dirige vers moi tout en enrobant ma chambre d'un parfum cher mais delicat. Elle est habillee de ces robes saucisse que je hais tant mais le sien est au bustier, un bustier qui a du mal a contenir ses nichons. Je fais une priere silencieuse au bon DIEU pour qu'aucun de ses seins ne se pointent lorsqu'elle dansera ce soir. Elle me regarde comme si elle lisait mes pensees et dis:
-T'inquietes! Ils sont colles a la robe, les seins. Ils ne sortiront pas.
Puis elle rigole comme une possedee. J'ai un peu peur de ce rire de sorciere. Puis elle s'arrete net
- Treves de plaisanteries. Elle me pose devant la coiffeuse, pose ma serviette sur mes epaules et se met a faire mes cheveux. Elle me peigne avec une telle violence que j'ai peur d'etre decapitee
- Arretes de gigoter. C'est quand la derniere fois que tu as peignee cette tignasse! Vraiment tu me fais honte parfois.
Je prefere me taire car ma tete faisait deja asse mal comme ca. Au bout d'un quart d'heure ma tignasse devint une vraie Pompadour, enfin une belle tete. Mes cheveux a nouveau tendres retombaient sur mes epaules en cascades. De plus ils scintillaient a la lumiere du Soleil qui penetrait dans ma chambre. Elle avait beau etre chiante, Aicha faisait des miracles de mes cheveux chaque fois que l'envie lui prenait.
- Arrete de t'admirer, pauvre folle. On y va! La voiture nous attend!
Je prie ma pochette, y fourra les essentiels: make up, portable, parfum, argent (on ne sait jamais), mouchoir (les mariages me faisaient toujours pleurer) . Je suis Aicha rapidement en dehors de la maison avant que toute la famille commence a me decortiquer. J'entends deja les sifflements sexistes de mes freres. Je passe devant ma Maman qui me lance un regard intrigue mais je l'embrasse vite sur la joue sans lui laisser le temps de me questionner sur le choix de ma robe. Mon Pere leve le nez de son journal juste une seconde pour me demander de ne pas rentrer trop tard. Heureusement que son regard ne s'est pas trop eternise sur le bustier de Aicha. Il aurait eu un ou deux mots a lui dire. On file dans la voiture mise a la disposition de Aicha par son fiance rien que pour l'occasion en direction du Radisson, ou la reception a lieu. La voiture roule rapidement presque en meme temps qu'Aicha debite un tas d'information sur la ceremonie en question, la mariee, le marie, comment ils se sont rencontres, quand ils ont decide de se marier, qui est invite...bref toutes sortes d'information qui ne m'interessent guere et qui ne me serviront guere dans le futur. A vrai dire, je veux seulement dormir pendant que la voiture roule. Je veux oublier que je me dirige a un mariage. Je veux oublier que cela aurait pu etre moi qu'on celebrait aujourd'hui. Je veux oublier meme son existence. Alas chaque bouchee d'air que j'aspire a son nom gravee dessus. Je fais une deuxieme priere silencieuse au Bon DIEU:
- Faites que je ne pleures pas de tristesse a ce mariage.

Things I learned from being married (Marriage advice to my best friend)

My girl is telling me that she is finally getting married. She is over the moon happy but she has great apprehensions. She is worried about the wedding venue, that she will fit in her dress, get along with her in laws and never join the growing ranks of divorces. Horror stories I told her over the years did not help at all. I try to relax her by giving her reassuring advice: "Everything will be fine! Your wedding will be great. You keep on eating apple for breakfast and dinner and you will fit in that dress. Your in laws are going to be so in love with you. You and what's his name are going to live happily ever after." Then it hit me. I was lying. I was lying to my best friend of all people. I always told her the truth about that gorgeous dress that did not fit her at all, about that short do that was not her, that she should sue after being sexually harassed at work, that she should dump that good for nothing boyfriend of hers. I told it all to her and had to scream at times she did not want to listen. And here I was buying supportive and lying my ass off. What my best friend did not need was another so called friend telling her lies. What she needed was the truth (or at least what I thought was the truth).
I took another sip at my Chai, readjusted my necklace, looked her right in her eyes and told her this:

"I am really happy that you are getting married and with what's his name. He is a great man and I am sure he will make you happy. But there are things you need to know about marriage, things other married women would not admit to you. There are things your Mother, rest her soul would have told you. But since she is not here, I will tell them to you from a married woman to a soon to be:

1- Talk about it
Before you say I do, it is important to sit down and talk about everything with your man. Talk about your goals, your values, your priorities, how many children do you want, if you plan on continuing to work after the baby (ies) are born, how you are going to share the chores, how you are going to divide the income, how do you want to raise your children. Do not leave it to chance. Have it all out just to avoid surprises along the road.

2- Marriage is war
It is sad but marriage is often pictured as being this peaceful and happy adventure. Yet in reality it is war. You will have to fight against all odds. You will have to fight him and yourself. sometimes at the same time. Often you will find yourselves wanting different things. But since you do not want to part ways, you will have to compromise. It is hard, but if you get your priorities straight and know why you are fighting, things will be easier.

3- Choose your battles
You will find couples who will fight for every little thing. But if you want a stable and healthy relationship, choose your battle. Let him take over the remote control if he wants to. As long as he understands that tomorrow he will have to let you watch your Sex and the city marathon. What I am trying to say is that you should stand your ground on things that really matters to you and fight for them. If not, let it go.

4- Do him often
Men crave sex. Men need sex. Sometimes they will stalk you until you cave, other times you will have to do the work. Sex is very important in a marriage. If you have a healthy sex life, then you will have a good marriage. I will not tell you how many times in a week you will have to do. But let me tell you that having a headache is not a valuable excuse not to. Actually it has proven that it cures headaches. So if he pokes you while you are having one, just give it a try.

5- Do it dirty
Often, after a few years of marriage, couples fall into a routine. They do it the same way or do it less. In the long run, you will end with him looking somewhere else or both of you being very frustrated. Make a change to that routine. Surprise him at work (if you can). Wear something shockingly provocative inside the bedroom.  Give him a lap dance if he is into that kind of thing. The thing is men want whores in the bedroom. I am not saying you are one but be one once in a while.

6- Keep yourself pretty
Women tend to let go after getting married. Men do as well. But we are not talking about them here. Just because you are married, probably with kids does not mean that you have to sacrifice your appearance. Be clean, get a mani pedi if must, do your hair, wear make up, dress well in and out of the house, go on a diet if you think you gained too much weight. If your man sees you making efforts, he will also do his part.

7- Obey, obey and do what you want
Men like women who are submissive. Some will say that it is not true but it is. So do not say no to him for the sake of saying no. If he is asking you something that is reasonable, do it even if you are against it ( I am not talking about something major like having a threesome with that sexy secretary of his). And often you will find that you can get your way once you become totally submissive to him. There will come a time when you will do exactly what you want whether he likes it or not just because you have been such a good wife in the past.

8- Respect his Mother (parents)
If you are lucky, his parents will be these sweet people who you can turn into allies. If you are not, they will work against you and sabotage your marriage. But it does not matter as long as you are respectable towards them. Pay them the same respect you do your parents and even more. After all they are the reason why the fabulous human being you are in love with exists. Be grateful towards them, cook for them (if you can), offer them presents, try to build a bridge between them and their son if there are some problems between them without meddling. If his parents are causing you problems, never ask him to take your side (particularly because it is a battle you will loose). But ask for his cooperation and understanding.

9- Do not nag
You will probably not want to come home to a person who is constantly complaining about their spouse, their work, or their life. So why do the same? Men want to come home to soothing women not to screaming ones. So if you are a screamer, tone it down. And if you are a crier, hold your tears. And do not complain about him. The more you talk, the less he will listen. If you want to make a point, sit him down and have a heart to heart with him.

10- Bitch about it to your girlfriend
Sometimes women will talk about a problem they have with their men, and the latter will try to fix it. In reality women are looking for someone who will hear them and be supportive instead of trying to fix their problems. If it the case with you at that time, bitch about your problem to your best friend. She will be the shoulder you can cry on. You man will either laugh out loud, blame you or give you a rational solution you do not want to hear about.

11- Show him an opposite side of you once in a while
Men often take so much from us because we tend to let them. Therefore, it s good that he sees what you are really capable of once in a while. If you are good nature and forgiving, scream at him from the top of your lungs and threaten his life. Have a fit, a mental breakdown. If you are a screamer in good times, just be really quiet and reasonable for a while. It will scare him so much that he will think twice before treating you poorly from now on.

12- Forgive him
Your man cheated on you. You found out about it or he told you. He tells you it was a mistake, he will break it off and begs for your forgiveness. I say if you find in your heart the courage to forgive him, then do it. But you will also need to muster the courage to trust him again no matter what. If you cannot find that courage, then a) cheat on him for revenge (at which point you can forget about keeping your marriage alive); b) cut his dick off and feed it to the crows (but you may be sent to jail). If you think he is not worth the trouble, dump his ass.

13- Prepare your divorce
 People often forget that a divorce is something you should get ready for just like a marriage. You need to be emotionally and physically ready but more importantly financially ready. I suggest that you do no rely entirely on your man for money. You work, you have a salary. Save some of that money for you and only you in a bank account he does not need to know about. Think of this money as your insurance. If things work out and you are still together forever, use it. If not, you will have something to start up your new life without him.

14- Do not expect to be treated like a princess if you do not act like one
Often a woman gets called a bitch and gets mad for it. I say if you act like a bitch, you deserve to be called a bitch. Granted he may never call you the b word, do not expect you to treat good just because. Show him that you deserve to be loved and treated good. Treat him well, be a compassionate listener, be his friend, his mother, his sex toy. If you do everything necessary for him, he will do everything necessary for you. And if he does not, you can let him know (although it is not very princess behavior) or just dump him for someone who will.

15- Always take his side
Men are fighters. That is how they are created. Often they will have this wild argument with someone and you will be in the crossfire. Try to calm him down if you can but never tell him that he is wrong in front of the other party. Take him somewhere else, apologize to the other party (when he is not there) if you have to. When it is just the two of you and he is calm enough to see reason, let him know that his behavior was not acceptable. Let him know that you understand where he is coming from (even if you do not)  but that he cannot have a screaming match like that ever again. Then you hug him hard. Men are like children after all."


After my speech, I took a sip of my Chai that was cold by now. I was exhausted after talking so much. My friend looked at me like what I just said was crap. For a moment, I felt that she thought I was nuts for telling her all this. She who doubted me, must have been convinced that married life had jaded me after this talk. But then as I was giving up on her, she reached for my hand and squeezed it hard. I could see the tears she was trying to hold back. She said to me:

"Thank you for telling me the truth. Promise that you will always do so even if I do not want to hear it. Promise you will be by my side when I am happy or devastated in my marriage. I need you. I may not agree with everything you say. Hell, I even think you are nuts for telling me some of that stuff. But I am happy you did because I needed it. And let us face it, you have been married longer than I even had a serious relationship. So I trust you."

I squeezed her hand back and together we tried not to let the tears coming to our eyes, roll on our Chais.

I loved a monster

Busted lips, black eye, broken ribs, and seven stitches. I thought I was dead. It turns out I was still alive and "lucky" according to the detectives who came to take my statement. I was lucky because I was still alive. I was lucky because he did not finished his deed. I was lucky because I had not been raped.
I met the monster a while back. He was sweet. He was a gentleman. He was handsome. And he liked me. The plain girl who barely gets noticed anywhere was liked by the golden boy. He was young. He was well built. He was an attraction. He was my distraction.
He took me out on dates in fancy restaurants, bought me flowers and chocolate. He wooed me like no man has never wooed me before. I fell for him as fast as any sensed woman would fall for a man.  And I was happy. He made me so happy.
I could hear wedding bells. I already started "shopping" for my wedding dress. I was going to be his bride. I could tell. But something bothered me: in all the 9 months we dated, he never took me to his place. Every time I asked him about it, he joked around. He used to say that we needed to keep some things a mystery before getting married because if we divulge everything before hand, we would get bored of each other. I understood at first. However, as time passed, I started to worry. What was he hiding?
I started to think about the possibilities:
Was he already married?
That could not be. He spent so much time with me.
Was he a messy person?
Impossible! He always cleaned at my place.
Did he have a pet and could not tell me because he knew I had an aversion for animals?
No way! I would have smelled it on him. ( I am pretty good when it comes to smell: after all I make perfumes for a living)
What could be it? I did not know. But I could not wait to find out later. I knew he was going to propose any minute now. And before I said yes, I had to know what he was hiding from me. Asking him was not going to work. I had to act and act fast.
One day after he kissed me goodnight at my building's door, I gave him a 10 seconds head start and followed him. I walked as fast as I could at the same time trying not to bring attention to myself. I was so scared that he would turn and see me following him that I could hear my heart pounding out of my chest. But he never noticed me. He took the train for 25 minutes and got out at a different part of the city, a part I never visited. Then he walked for 10 minutes in dark alleys with stray cats and drunken homeless. I was scared to death but I had a mission. He finally went inside an old house with chipped paint and bolted doors. I went home after making sure that he was not going back out. As soon as I arrived home, I googled the place. I could not find much information about it but discovered that it had been on the market for ages before it was bought two years ago. The next day, as he spent time at my place, I took his keys out of his jacket and made molds out of soap. As soon as he left, I took the molds and ask my friendly key man to make me duplicates. I kept the duplicates somewhere safe in my room, somewhere I knew nobody would even look and waited for an opportunity.
A month later it came. He told me he had a business trip. I accompanied him to the airport and kissed him goodbye. I waited an hour to be sure his plane would not be delayed and rushed to his place with my set of duplicate keys. I tried several and the third one was a winner.  I was holding my breath as I entered the house. I was surprised to see a well furnished house with a great layout. It had a huge living room with windows facing the streets (if only they were open, the house would have been dancing in light), the kitchen was a delight with its white counters and black cabinets, and antique services. The upstairs had three rooms each with its own accent. The house looked shabby on the outside but the inside was pure decoration heaven. Nothing was from Ikea like at my place. I saw leathers couches in the living room, oak chairs and table in the dining room, and capony bed in the master bed room. All the windows had curtains with flower lace details on them. The back had a small garden with roses and a rusted swing. I felt like I went back in time in the house. I felt like I was in my childhood house.
I was careful not to disturb anything as I poke around. I checked everywhere for clues that could tell me my boyfriend did not want me to see this place. But I did not find anything at all. The more I poke, the more I was falling in love with him. His suits were well organized in his closets. His after shave stand next to his brush in the very clean bathroom. I even took a sniff at it and missed him terribly. His hobby magazines were lazily laying on his bedside table with his reading glasses. I took a dive in his bed and smelled him all over the sheets. I could not wait to be married to him and move to this place.
After cleaning up ever trace that I was even in this house, I started to leave. But a small door that I did not noticed when I arrived grabbed my attention. I wondered what it was. The layout from my google search did show that the house had a basement. The door was locked so I started to use my set of duplicate. The door finally gave in after my fourth try. As soon as I opened it, a strange smell overwhelmed me. I could not tell exactly what it was at first but as I took the stairs, it hit me: it was bleach. I was laughing that maybe he had to clean the mess he found here with bleach when he moved . Then I froze. Something was off. I look everywhere for a light and when I found it, I could not believe what I was seeing. In the center of the room, was a table made out of steel with cuffs dangling by its four sides. Above the table was a big blinding light. There was also a small stool with cutting tools. I was in a operating room like in the hospitals. All around the room were jars filled with sticky substances. I took one in my hand to try to identify the substance, as one nipple faced me. I jolted with horror and dropped the jar. I did expect it to break but it was still intact. I quickly put it back on it shelf. Terrified and disgusted, I started to check at all the jars. Some had locks of hair, some had teeth, some had toes. But all of them had body parts. I felt sick, and bolted out of there as fast as I could. As I was exiting the front door, I saw him there waiting for me. He looked at me with such anger and malice. He took a step forward grinning. I started running aiming for the back entrance. But he was faster. He grabbed me, and punched me in my face. My whole world went white and before I could get back from his blow, he pinned me down and kept pounding on me. The pain was unbearable and  made me weaker. I screamed but nothing came out of my mouth except blood. The only thought that crossed my mind was that I was going to die and end up in a jar. Then I remembered the keys I had in my hand. I took them and jam them as hard as I could at his side. He cried out like a hurt wolf and lost his balance. I jammed the keys a second time at him, and got up. I mastered the courage to run out of there without looking back. I run so fast I thought I had wings. At the subway station I hid in the toilets and called the police.
Two days later surrounded by my family in the hospital and the detectives from the police, I learnt that my perfect boyfriend, future husband material was a serial killer the police had been looking for years. He would abduct his victims outside shady bars, torture them for days all the while raping them, cut some part out before stabbing them to death. Then he would dump their freshly bleached body in dumpsters. The police was not even close to catch him when I gave them the call. They are still digging in his basement but all the jars they found, plus the assault on my person was enough to put him into death row. I was on a cloud when I was I hearing all of this and it was not due to the Vicodin I was receiving to calm the pain. The police called me a survivor, a hero for fighting him. I felt like I wanted to die. 
How could I ever date again? How could I ever fall in love again when the man I loved and trusted turned out to be me someone getting off on torturing and raping women. How could I have been so blind not to see that deep down he was a monster? What was I going to do now?

How come you don't call me?

She was sitting on her bed, desperately trying to read the last pages of the latest Danielle Steel. But she could not concentrate. Every five minutes, she would look at her cellular phone, wondering why it has not rung yet. She picked up the device for the umpteenth time and flipped it open. No messages as well. She put it back on her bedside table. With a frustrated sigh, she proceeded to toss her book away, turn off the lights and go to bed.

Two weeks earlier, she was sitting in an upscale restaurant surrounded by several other people in her situation. They were all dressed up, some more than others. A quick look around her told her that she was not the only nervous soul in search of true love in this place.

Sarah was approaching 30. She was still single. The career that she worked hard and long for was finally taking off. She was at the right place at the right time. Yet, she was still alone. For a moment, she thought about letting go. She had her share of bad relationships in the past. Why did she need another one now? Besides, her friends were always telling her that Mr. Right will come knocking at her door, only when she will stop looking for it. So she should just be patient.
Unfortunately for her, she was tired of waiting, alone in her cold bed. She wanted someone to go home to. She wanted someone to share her bed, her days, her laughs, her cries, her tomorrow. She wanted to be happy with a man. So, she did the last crazy thing she vowed she would never do: she decided to try matchmaking companies.
That Saturday, she had been invited to a mixer. She was sitting waiting for the matchmaker to signal the beginning of the mixer. She was looking around, trying to assess the men but also the women who were going to be her competition. Some men were really handsome and looked confident while some others were just blah. And the women, some of them were polished, a bit uptight. And the rest looked like sluts who were trying too much with their short dresses and low cut tops. That made her wonder about her own outfit. Was the knee length coral sheath she had purchased at Macy's the week before appropriate enough? Were her curls going to hold? Was her make up perfect?
She did not have time to answer her questions. The signal was made and people started to walk around the room searching for members of the opposite sex. Sarah just waited, her body language inviting. And soon enough some men came to her.
At the end of the mixer, she was exhausted but she had secured mini dates with two guys. Ahmad was younger than her but a total cutie. He was also driven and dedicated to his family. They shared the same values and the fact that he had dimples when he smiled did not hurt either. Trey, was a tall dark chocolate with a model of a body. He was a lot older than he looked but seemed to be a kid at heart. At the end of the mini dates, both men expressed interest in her and vowed to call her soon to set up a real date. Sarah went home excited. By the time she made it to her bed, she was already planning her wedding.

When she woke up late the next day, her first thought was to check her cell phone. Nothing! But that is usual. Give them a little bit of time to play it cool. Probably, by Monday they will call.
Monday came and still nothing. Then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday....A week went by and neither men made the first step. She thought about calling them. What would she say? But more importantly what would they think of her? Afraid, she decided against it. She would wait. Another week went by. She was constantly checking her phone, her email. At work she was so distracted that she was starting to make mistakes. She could not even concentrate on casual conversations with her co-workers. She did not go out as well, refusing invitations from family and friends. She was afraid to miss the call, when it came. She was getting frantic and irrational. She only wanted her phone to ring and to be Trey or Ahmad, or both men at the other end.
Now, she was at the end of week two, unable to sleep, desperate and frustrated. She realized that by now, the two men were probably never going to call her but she needed answers as to why.

The following morning, she made two phone calls: one to her best friend living on the other side of the planet and one to the matchmaker.
- They still did not call? Tamara asked her.
- No. Why do you think that is?
Tamara paused to think. Then replied
- I have no idea, sweetie. Are you sure that they say they were going to call?
Sarah made another exasperated sigh.
- Yes, I am sure. The whole purpose of the mixer was to get numbers at the end if you were interested in a person. They both got my phone number so logically they should call. Why do men do this? They say: "I will call you" and they never do.
Tamara did not know what to say to comfort her friend.
- Did you watch the movie "He is just not that into you"?
- Of course, I did. And like that girl I am not that desperate so do not ask me to call them to see what is going on. Sarah cried
- I know but that may put you out of the misery of not knowing. Hold on a second.
Sarah heard Tamara on the other line talking to her husband. She waited patiently for her friend to come back on the phone. Tamara was married and seem to have it all, a husband, beautiful kids. But Sarah was not envious. She witnessed first hand what marriage could do to a person. Yet she was still pursuing that dream of finding someone with no success apparently.
Tamara came back on the phone with this revelation:
- I ask Karim about men and why they do not call after they said they will. He said that it is because after the mixer or date, they would go home, clear their heads, think it through and decide that they were no longer interested. Sometimes, as they ask for phone numbers they know they will not call but just keep on asking because they think it is the polite thing to do. He says that it is as simple as that.
Sarah wanted to scream and that is what she did in fact right into Tamara's ears:
- Then, why the fuck don't they pick up the phone and have the decency to say it to my face. Better yet, why do they even bother to get my phone number. I'd rather be rejected on the scene than have to wait around for a phone call that will never come.
- Hey. Don't shoot me. I am just the messenger.
- I am sorry but....ah!
Tamara was really worried about her friend. She was the one to encourage her to go out there although she would have never imagined that her friend had the courage to go to a mixer. She made a silent plea to GOD asking him when he was going to get her best friend a good man who would treat her right.
Sarah hung up the phone after chit chatting with Tamara another five minutes. Then she called her matchmaker. The later faced with the same question, told her that she did not understand why the men did not call particularly when it seemed that they hit it off at the party. But she promised that she would investigate. She ended the call urging Sarah not to give up in her search of true love. In other words, please keep using our services.
Sarah decided that this was the last straw. She was done searching and waiting for men. She would remain single, and focus on her career and family. And hopefully one day, prince charming will come knocking at her door. No, she would not even let herself think about that again. She was letting go.

A week later, her matchmaker called her. She finally had the answers as to why both Ahmad and Trevor did not call. It seemed that Ahmad was interested in both Sarah and another girl at the party. But upon calling the other girl first and going out on a date with her, he realized that they were a match. Therefore, he did not find the need to interact with Sarah. And as for Trevor, the matchmaker regretted to inform her that the man was already married. In fact, he was a player looking for his next prey at the mixer. And he had everyone at the agency fooled until his wife came bearing information about his true nature.
Men!

no break is even

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. As usual, she slept late, ignoring the rays of sunshine that were trying to peek through her curtains. She was lazily laying in bed, dreaming of better days. Soon, however, she would have to wake up and face the reality of it all: it was over.

Two days ago, Kanai had told her it was all over. He invited her for diner, and just told her in the middle of their entrees that he had to end it with her. The reason he gave her was that his mother insisted he went back home to finally marry his betrothed. She did not know what to think, much less what to say. She kept on eating her pasta, trying to hold the tears from rolling on her face. By dessert, he was ready to say his goodbyes. He payed the check and left without even giving her a second glance.

She gave him enough time to disappear into the night, for her to leave the crowded restaurant. She did not know what she was going to do. She knew this moment would happen someday. But in the back of her mind, she had decided to ignore it, praying that it would never. And as the relationship went on, she truly believed that Kanai and she were meant to be, and would prevail. Now, it was all over: her dreams, her future, her life...

She met Kanai three years ago at the school cafeteria. He was a foreign student in need of a tutor and she was the one assigned to him. At the beginning, she was not eager to mentor him. She had already so much on her plate with her studies. However, Kanai won her over with his charming personality. He was a tall, svelte man in his early twenties. He was not someone you would call handsome but he had very attractive features. He had skin the color of mocca and a smile that could melt an iceberg. And once you knew him, he was a very interesting person. He knew so much about politics, economics, history and even trivial things. He never ceased to amaze people about how much he knew or how much he was eager to learn. Kanai came from Bangladesh to study physics in the US. He had hopes of becoming an engineer and making it in this country. And her role as a tutor would be to help him adapt to this new American life.

She would meet him very often at the beginning of the school year to help him with class enrollments but also for his legal papers. Kanai was a quick learner and soon enough he did not need her at all. However, he insisted on seeing her. He even went so far as to call her from time to time to ask questions that she already answered to. She kind of guessed that Kanai was romantically interested in her. She did not know what to do about it. She knew she liked the guy but she was not interested in having a relation with a foreigner. Besides, she had enough on her plate with her own studies.

Amid all her apprehensions, she found herself in Kanai's arms one night after he walked her back to her place. He was kissing her gently on her lips and she did not stop him. They started dating right after. Kanai was fun to be around as a friend, but he was even more interesting as a boyfriend. He was so affectionate and romantic: giving her flowers, sending her e-cards, taking her on dates outside the school campus. She felt like a queen. Kanai was the perfect gentleman, the prince that she has been looking for in all the frogs she kissed in her past life. He was the answer to all her prayers, uttered or not.

Things were supposed to be perfect between them. And they were until she discovered how attached he was to his family back in Bangladesh. He would drop everything he was doing, her included, at the drop of the hat, when his mother called him. And he would go into this dark mood soon after he ended the call. He was feeling homesick and there was nothing she could do about it. However, Kanai worse flaw would appear when they were around other Bangladesh people. For some reason, he would not show to them that he was involved with her. At first, she thought that it was because he was ashamed of her. But after confronting him, he finally confessed that he was engaged to be married back home. And since he was from a prominent family back in Bangladesh, everyone from his country knew him and of his engagement. She did not know what to tell him. Her first reaction was to try to understand about this engagement. He calmly explained to her that he was promised to another girl from another important family. And that they were set to marry as soon as he graduates. She wondered if he could get out of this engagement and he made it clear that it was impossible. Doing so would bring shame to his family.

- So what are we supposed to do? She finally had the courage to ask him

He was sitting on her bed, hugging his knees. She could see that he was in pain but for some reasons she could not reach out to him. He waited a good minute before saying:

- We would have to break up. I have to be honest with you. I do not think I can break up this engagement. When I got involved with you, everything was so quick. I knew I could not be with you but I had hope that in time I would find a solution to my dilemma.

She could not answer. She knew that she loved him. And she knew that he loved her. They were great together. Even her family and her friends had accepted him. How could they end it? So she did the crazy thing: she went over to him, kissed him and said:

- We will figure it out someday. But for now, let us just enjoy ourselves.

That was three years ago. They never did figure it out. In fact, they never even brushed the subject again. He did not say a thing. And she did not ask a thing. It was the perfect don't ask, don't tell policy between them. And after a while, she put this stupid engagement in the back of her mind. And it eventually disappeared from her life. There she was making plans for after graduation with Kanai. He was one year his junior. She already had a stable job, working as a junior editor in a local magazine. But she was planning to move in with Kanai after he graduated. He would get a job soon enough and they would make plans for their future: marriage, house, children. Everything would go as planned.

Today, as she woke up, she realized that all her dreams had been crushed. She did not know what to do about it except cry. However, she did not allow herself to cry one more tear after the sea she cried last night. She would go on in her life. That is what people do when they face a tragedy; they survive and they go one, making other plans. She did not have the courage to make one just yet but she knew she needed one or several. She got up from her bed and made herself some coffee. Then she opened the drapes. As she sensed, it was beautiful outside. On such a great day, Kanai and she would have been strolling hand in hand in the park near the campus. Or he would have rented a car and drove her to the nearest shore. But she could not let her mind wandered back to him just yet. The memories were too painful. She decided that it was best for her survival to just get angry at him. "The coward!", she thought. "He just drop this ball on my lap in the middle of diner. And how dare he left me just like that, like I was nothing. I gave this man everything, three years of my life, my time, my commitment, my support, my body, my soul, my love and he just gets up and walks out of my life. How could he? " She was getting worked up thinking about his cowardice. She was so angry that she could not see that in all this, she was the big enabler. She allowed Kanai to just do that: walk away. Because she was so stupid for not facing him when it was needed. Instead she buried her head in the sand and hoped that things would work out. And they did not.

Three weeks later, she saw some interesting headlines at msn.com. Kanai's lavish wedding was featured. She saw pictures of him wearing a gold embroidered Punjabi. By his side was a beautiful Bangladesh woman wearing a red and golden Saree and tons of gold jewelry. She stared at the pictures for a long time. Kanai was smiling. He seemed happy among family and friends. But the coup de grace was that he was looking at his bride with so much love.

In the weeks after their break up, she had came to term with the sordid affair by convincing herself that Kanai loved her and her only; and that he was going back to get married only by duty to his family. She rationalized by thinking that he was a good man who put the happiness of his family before his. She thought that he would never forget her and that maybe in time, he would find a way to come back to her. Now, after reading the article and seeing the pictures, she realized that she had been dreaming. Kanai was over her while she was obviously still "under him". It is funny how when hearts break, they never seem to break even.