Anne, I'm kind of asking myself the same question. I guess a little of both is what I need in addition to just basic support.
I guess I'll just bite the bullet and get it out, if I just get more of the same of what I've been getting, then I can always just take it down. Okay.
Two years, 2008 through the end of 2010, these were the happiest years that I can remember. I felt I was finally at peace with myself and felt complete with the man I loved. Just one complication: distance. I will tell you up front, he was the happiest, most outgoing, and most caring person. Nothing but honesty in him and respect. I've met a good number of his friends that I now consider as extensions of a family, they don't judge and they've always been so supportive. Same with his brother, like a brother I'd never had. Some of my friends got to know him too, one of which has the sharpest personality radar I've ever seen, and they were all equally supportive, felt that we were a match.
During the summer, before we started our relationship, Yousef (I'm changing all names for privacy, I won't use their real names here) got some bad news. In Egypt, his country (again, please no judging), every man of certain ages is subjected to being potentially chosen by lottery for mandatory military service - drafting whether at war or at peace. Of course, at first, he laughed it off, acted cool with it. I mean heck, 3 years as a Lieutenant? Must be an honor! No, he felt like he was being thrown into hell. He was absolutely terrified. And after what I've seen of the Mubarak regime before it ended, I'd be scared too.
Our relationship began that October. We were fully aware of what the risks were, and he did offer me a chance to walk away early on if I felt I couldn't do it, we felt we couldn't deny our feelings and that we wanted to take the risk.
Countless times, his date of departure for training was pushed back farther and farther, causing all kinds of frustration and stress. But it turned out to be a blessing, as a relative of his that worked with the recruiters was able to pull a few strings and reduce his rank, and thus his time in service: a soldier for only one year. One year. That was all we needed. We started planning out some options and while he was at the unit, I'd help look for different visa options with assistance of our friends. Later on, Yousef and a friend of his applied for a green card (which is done by lottery). He took risks while he was there by sneaking his phone with him into the unit and using it to come online to talk to me or to call me. Note, he was supposed to have gotten a vacation every one or two weeks to go home for a couple days, but they never let him go when they were supposed to. One particular time, they kept him for over a month. A full month with no word, I grew more and more worried by the day. One night, I was ranting to my best friend, begging to hear something from him, anything to tell me that he was okay. The next morning when I went to work, I found a voicemail on my phone - Yousef had gotten a chance to sneak somewhere and call me just to make sure I was okay and to tell me he missed me and loved me. I was about to break down crying in relief, I was so happy. Of course I had to keep myself together, as my shift in customer service was about to start and didn't want to make anyone upset if I was in pieces for any reason. The risk he took just to make sure I was okay...I can't even begin to express my feelings in that moment.
The countdown continued, and he was released a few days early, no longer obligated to government duties. We couldn't have been happier, and we felt we had grown so much stronger.
Our second anniversary came and went as we continued to weigh our options. But, there was something different about him. Depression was my theory, and it worried me. His friends and family all agree that he hasn't been the same since the military. Gone was the happy young man that could take on the world, especially for those he cared about, and standing there in his place was a man full of sorrow and questioning everything around him. A broken man.
It got to a point in which he was certain he'd never get out of Egypt, no matter what he tried, that he'd never be with the person he loved, with me. He made the one choice that he could only see in the dark, narrow tunnel he was in: to end it. He felt he could only end the pain by ending the relationship. I'd seen him cry before, but I've never seen him in the severity of anguish that he was in when he brought this up. I tried to talk him out of it, tried to reassure him that we were going to be okay and that we were getting help. I thought I was successful, but come shortly after the revolution against the government in Egypt, my world was shattered to pieces as I was proven wrong. Customary to his culture, if a couple is to court each other, they are to do so as an engaged couple for a while. If things don't work out, the engagement's off. Yousef got engaged. He proposed to someone he knew from work to force himself to get over me. I wasn't the only one caught by surprise, all of our friends and his family were shocked by his actions. The engagement wasn't very long either. Until last September, I held on to that one last scrap of hope I had left, that the engagement would be called off for one reason or another, that I would get him back. September 1st, it was over. Yousef was married and my last hope was gone.
I understand the difficult choice he made, but considering that a friend of ours and I had found a chance for us to be together and how much I loved him, the pain was unbearable. Never have I felt so lost and broken to such an extent before.
Fastforward to today. My heart still aches and I don't know how to heal. On top of that, there are...different feelings directed to someone else I've known about as long as I've known Yousef.
Hussain has had feelings for me for a long time, and respected the fact that I was at the time devoted to Yousef. He's always supported me in any situation, only wanting me to be happy. Now, I think I have the same feelings for him. The thing is, these feelings don't feel the same as when I was with Yousef. I feel so confused and lost. I want to heal and love, but I can't shake off this sadness and uncertainty that still clings to me. Hussain wants to do anything he can to make me happy because he loves me, he can't bear to see me upset. He's willing to leave home and start a life with me if that's what makes me happy. Yes, the distance factor is here too, different location though. I wasn't planning on this happening and I specifically told Hussain that I do not want another long distance relationship unless I can be sure that it will not end the same way it did with Yousef. Hussain understood and agrees with me on this matter.
Right now, he's doing everything he can to arrange for a visa for himself and a little time off of work to visit for a vacation to test the waters a bit, so to speak, rather than just jumping the gun. He told me the one way that would work for absolute certain, just requires an invitation of some sort from my end, but he insists that he exhaust every possibility on his end first and using the invitation as a last resort.
I thought that being in love with Hussain might feel the same way as it did with Yousef, but now my heart is making me confused and once again, speaking some language I can't understand.
Ya rab, what am I to do?? I just want to be happy again and to love again.
(Sorry for how long this is)