A Gleam of Dreams

A Gleam Of Dreams

By: Z.A.

Dedication :

To you Islam:

Deep within me lies a love for your moonlit soul and crystal eyes;

An agonizing longing for your touch, your smile and your presence in my chest arise;

Filling the hours with an image of you that never dies,

And your love stills my mind like the dreaming light of the sunrise.

A Gleam of Dreams Page | 2

Chapter One

«...I am a girl who always seems ambitious and tough,

striving to get whatever I want in this life, who believes in the freedom of her thoughts and soul, and who always fought the idea of settling for something less, I have a few bad experience as a child and adolescent that had a long lasting impact on my day to day life and had me misunderstood by a large amount of people I know...

Anyway, this story isn’t about my past, this year I have decided to forget about it because I have met one the few people who had the ability to change my mind about things and who had a great influence on my life shortly after meeting him.

It all started one day , on the 19th of February 2014 , I came accross this amazingly beautiful page on the widely used social network Facebook , but don’t get me wrong , I have known about it a few months before ,It has been some kind of solace for me , and sometimes after a bad stressful day at college I just login to my facebook and keep searching through the page’s content and getting lost in it , loving the way it made me feel this transition to another dimension of the human existence , a world full of joy and contentment , for the moment I step into that world , I feel easiness washing over me , and I thought it unfair to not express gratitude toward this person who created that world and aknowledge his efforts , driven by an unknown force as well as a sense of curiosity to know this warm-hearted , young dreamy soul inside that person , Little did I know by then that I would be a click away from meeting one the few people who would have a noticeable influence on my thoughts , my life and even MY HEART...

We became fast friends ,I felt at ease talking to him and I’ve been wondering if he felt the same since as I came to


know that he is a very friendly young man ,you know the kind who tries to put a smile on everybody’s face without expecting something in return , A LOVER OF HUMANITY if I must say ! I remember going to bed that night feeling content despite the fact that I’ve been going through a really stressful period.

Days passed and with each passing day I began to feel something , a warm sensation and joy rising in my chest everytime we talked , I told myself that’s the impact of his lovely words on me , that he is one of those rare gifted people who have the ability to influence you in a good way and he surely has that , that maybe I’ve been in dead need of comforting words , little did I know that it was LOVE , that thing that I crave so much yet I fear as much...

Chapter Two

His name is Islam. It’s funny how even his name

sounded sweet, like a melody in my ear everytime I hear it and no thought comes to mind other than him. He is 24 years old , I remember how he told me the night I sent him a message on the page , sounding excited « ...I’m 24 , my A Gleam of Dreams Page | 4

birthday was 2 days ago ! » followed by those smileys, I mindly slapped myself for not sending that message earlier and missing the opportunity to wish him a happy birthday. It’s true that when you chat with someone online, you don’t know who’s setting in the other side, what that person is doing or how they feel, but with him, I always sense his mood, I knew that night that he was very happy, and as if his heart and mind were generating positive energy I could almost feel it around me.

He graduated from a Military Technical College in Cairo, he studied Electrical Engineering, I guess it’s not that easy to get access to such colleges, you know the ones that require high grades, but then he always seems the determined and hard-working kind and that was no surprise to me.

Despite all the openness and optimistic attitude his expresses towards people , I knew there was something wrong , not wrong in the sense that it would ruin a life or stop someone from reaching their goals , but those little things that generate feelings of loneliness, emptiness and hollowness and you feel isolated and separated from the world ,especially at night or when you’re sitting alone in a room looking outside as the rain fall against your window and that’s exactly how it seems to me , there were times when he couldn’t even type a single word , as if his fingers has suddently turned numb and words had fled from his mind.. I have as well noticed that in some of his pictures, he always set his mouth firmly, and even if he smiles that smile doesn’t reach his eyes; there is a fascinating phenomenon in science known as the “multiples effect” stating that two people completely geographically isolated from each other working on the same problem at the same time. They are each intentionally working on the same exact dilemma, with their thoughts floating around in the consciousness field energetically interacting with each other, was it this? Or maybe some form of telepathy?


Whatever it was , the only true thing I knew I wanted to take him in my arms and rest his head on my shoulder and brush his hair back , as if he was my first dearest child ,silently offering comfort and chasing away those feelings; I wanted to do that so badly that one night it brought tears to my eyes , I wished him good night and turned off my laptop , and went to bed , wondering why is it so hard for people in your surroundings to recieve without giving back and without even noticing those moments of solitude , There are many things that happen to genuinely loving people and they don’t voice their needs, letting their gentle souls bear it all , doing whatever it takes to emerge the next day feeling energetic and brilliant as ever , and Islam was one of those people...

Chapter Three

I have always told myself that if ever I fall in love with

someone I would not let his physical appearance be the main reason for it, that what matters is a good personality and all those ‘beautiful things’ we read on quotes we come across everywhere we go, but then, do we have the power to decide whether we should fall in love with a specific person? If there’s one thing that Islam has taught me about love , it is that we fall in love without knowing WHY, or HOW, nor WHEN , love is a soul thing, it’s when the other’s shines light on your soul , healing your pain and bringing peace to your mind...


Despite all of these things , I must admit that the first time I laid eyes on one of Islam’s pictures, I instantly loved the way he looked, he had penetrating dark eyes, nice full lips, high cheekbones and a square jaw; sometimes I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to run my fingertips down that jaw I could almost feel its scratch , he was dressed in a classic black suit that showed his broad shoulder with the chin stroking gesture , as if he were trying to make up his mind about something; but one of those pictures he posted one night wearing a white and black checkered button-down shirt , what can I say ? I have many words to describe what that shirt made him look like that I would write a whole book about it, but the picture moved me and triggered dangerous emotions in me that I shouldn’t feel for a man who’s living 2280 miles away and that I could easily lose contact with; I don’t talk here about the kind of shirt your would see a man wearing and say to him: « You look sexy! » or « Oh you look so attractive, it makes you look stylish and it fits right » , it’s absolutely none of that, because that shows in other pictures, but in this one I feel like if he ever wraps his arms around me it would be the safest place to be , he would offer comfort and solace, that in his embrace I would feel at home , that I would forget my fears and my doubts , that I would let go of my insecurities and embrace a new world of joy and peace, and take strenght from him that my weak body needs. This picture is forever printed in my mind and my heart and I’m sure if I see someone wearing the same shirt I would indeniably think of Islam and smile to myself, but I won’t feel the same because that someone wouldn’t have a warm heart, wouldn’t make time for other people and wouldn’t love freedom and humanity, he wouldn’t be so forgiving and wouldn’t make time to inspire other people, he wouldn’t pull himself together after a sad night and wouldn’t get touched by a story of an old couple who stayed with each other for 50 years and still they love each


other, he wouldn’t believe love is a meeting of souls, he simply wouldn’t be Islam...

Chapter Four

Today I’ve done something I never thought about doing

it before, I just googled the word ‘mother’, wondering what I would get as a result , shockingly and to my surprise, the definition given by Wikipedia is the following: ‘A mother is a woman who has raised a child, given birth to a child, and/or supplied the egg which in union with a sperm grew into a child...’is this really all what a mother is? I also came across many websites offering advice and detailed tips about ‘how to be become the ideal mother in 9 steps‘, is this all it takes to be an ideal mother? I definitely don’t think so, and I’m sure you too who’s reading this agree with me... In my opinion, A mother is way more than that, she is the one who carried you in her womb for 9 months, the one who bore the pain that comes along with it, she is the nurturer, the best friend, the one who will always be on your side when no one else is. There are truly no enough words to describe this heavenly creature.


I still remember that shortly after me and Islam got to know each other, he told me –again in one of those moments when he seemed very happy- I still remember the exact words he wrote me that night «...My mother used to give me kisses and hugs even when I grew up...» I still recall how I felt a deep surging wave of happiness washing over me, I don’t know why, but as much as I felt happy I felt sad, just as much, because a realisation hit me: his mother was dead, I want to write down things I felt and never told Islam about them, and the questions I kept asking myself since then; I felt fresh grief and pain, as if I had known her before and have witnessed her death and I just was reminded of it, I felt fresh tears gathering behind my eyes and the only thing that went through my mind is: what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I feeling this? I know it’s hard to believe what you just read, but it’s true, and since then I always pictured Islam as a kid, probably with so much energy running around and finally coming back to his mother’s arms. You know I never dared ask him about his childhood, I never dared asking people about it, especially those who witnessed the death of a loved one, or the ones who experienced abuse of any kind, but still I imagine him crying and running to his mother and she would jus hug him and kiss his cheek, patting his back and telling him that everything’s gonna be alright in that sweet reassuring voice that would chase away any kind of negative feelings and you would smile through your tears and then she would ask if you’re hungry, maybe you weren’t but still she would give you a piece of your favourite tasty candy and you would smile through your tears, maybe even try to distract you from whatever made you cry, or maybe you would find something interesting and tell her about it, you know the silly things we keep telling as children, maybe even as grown up and they still sound just as silly, but a mother is more than happy and willing to hear those things because they mean so much to her. Islam is a grown man now, and has so much


imagination and creativity alongside an incredible intelligence and easily adaptable mind and equally funny and easy going combined with a sense of compassion and great understanding of the human nature, still little things move him beyond words, because he feels things with his soul, you may wonder why is that? because any mother who still holds her son and gives him kisses even as a grown up is a wise woman, there’s something unique about him that he probably doesn’t realize, but I’m sure his mother did notice, because she had those qualities too on her own way...

It’s true that I’ve known Islam for only a few months, I don’t know about the future and for how much time I would have the pleasure to talk to him and to have those conversations, and it’s true too that I haven’t seen him, I haven’t had the opportunity to sit and look into his eyes as he is talking, but I’ve felt him enough to know that his mother had long lasting impact on his psyche and an impression and wonder on my mind as well, Islam doesn’t know that I think about his mother everytime I talk to him and still don’t know why, it’s enough that my favourite song of all times ‘ One Last Goodbye by Anathema’ reminds me of her...


Chapter Five

I have stated previously that I fell in love with Islam

without knowing the reason for it; that I kept asking myself many questions as of how? Why? and when? but I couldn’t find a clear answer to them; still I can come up with the many qualities about him that I appreciate a lot.

In the few days following the meeting with him on Facebook; I noticed that he posted drawings done by him and they consist mainly of a woman’s face, his drawings are soft and gorgeous, as if they speak to you and whisper for you to come closer and tell you a secret ...I once read doodle analysis and they say that someone who draws a nice good-looking face suggests that they are of an optimistic nature and that they see the good in others; and since he draws a woman’s face then I think he sees good in women in particular more than he does in men; and this brings again his mother’s influence back to surface, and how the way she treated him is reflected in his relationship with women and how good he is to them and can easily build a long lasting friendship and show ultimate understanding for their emotions; I must add that his drawings are about rounded shapes and curved lines and this only reinforce the idea of him being an emotional man who wants harmony and craves affection... He craves affection and I am longing to give it to him, isn’t this some sort of mirroring each other’s needs? It saddens me sometimes to the point of tears to be unable to give him what he so dearly craves, and I feel this mostly before I sleep; as if sensing his need and I would instead hug a


pillow and rub my face against it wishing somehow he would feel my embrace.

Other than drawing; Islam has numerous talents such as the ability to make good use of words; using soulful expressions to show his desire and love for things along with a huge admiration for the night, he finds himself in a royal blue colored night sky decorated with sparkling clear stars and a luminous full moon. It’s in the middle of that magical view that he finds answers to his questions; it’s his way of connecting to the loved ones he can’t reach, it’s that view that eases his pain and brings inner peace to his wandering soul...

Though he may be 24 years old and probably considered a grown man among his family members and friends, he has a love for cartoonized stuff and this shows clearly in his posts on the page, it’s not that he is a childish man, nor does it shows a lack of maturity of his part; it’s totally the opposite; if this shows something, then this only reflects a pure and innocent soul inside that perfectly shaped manly body which is what this man who loves football needs for a good game.

There’s something me and Islam have in common and that I like too much: It’s the love for nature and its wonders, I know he would love a long walk in a green forest and he wouldn’t mind if the tiny rain drops would wet his dark hair and fall down his striking chiseled jawline for he carries deep fascination for that hauntingly beautiful sight... And as much as we love those trees we also love what they produce as well, I’m sure if you would give us a fruit salade containing a variety or tasty fruits and sweet candy then it would be heaven for both of us.

All of those things are only making me fall deeper and deeper for him... Turning my fascination to obsession... My hesitation to complete surrender, and my longing to eternal desire for him; throwing oil into my already burning


soul; a soul that craves coming home... and only you are the home my love!

Chapter Six


Islam is a lover of music, and has a great taste whe it

comes to that, he loves calm, beautiful music with nice simple lyrics, he’d never suggest a sad song except for “My Immortal” by Evanescence, but that’s another story...

We were talking one day and he just sent me a song out of the blue; the song’s title was “Take My Heart”. It felt great to see those three words on my laptop’s screen, for a moment I just forgot that it was a song. It rather felt like a clear unspoken invitation: TAKE MY HEART. It left me wondering whether I already had it or I was on my way to possess his heart, that defenseless, fragile organ yet the only organ that has the secret to keep us alive. I downloaded the song and I am all eager to hear the lyrics, hoping they would hold answers to the many questions that began to gather in my mind, as the song started playing, the first thought it came to me my mind is: that song is sweet!, you know you can’t taste music, but I could taste its sweetness, then suddently a part caught my attention:

“But not every heart belongs to any other

You and I, you and I are meant to be

I’m the one for you, you’re the one for me...”

I thought for a moment, are we really meant to be? Is this something I should’ve realized by now? and Oh, how I wished those words were true!!

There’s nothing that can fascinate me more than well-written words that could describe feelings, words that could how their depth, intensity and complexity as well, and I believe that Islam has the same admiration for them to some extent... There’s that book I read three years ago, called “As You Desire”by Connie Brockway. It’s a love story in the desert of Egypt between two young English archeologists and it contains some of the best poems I have


ever read which made me fall in love with Old Egyptian poetry... Some of the paragrapghs relate totally to my feelings for Islam and this is one of them:

“I have loved you through each long season...

Through the span of each day...

Each metter of the night;

That I have wasted;

Alone in darkness...

I have lain awake...

Filling the hours with the sound of your voice;

The image of your body;

Until desire lives within me...”

I could imagine myself with him, taking his chin between my thumb and index finger gently, telling him those lines from that book: “Your mouth is as sweet well sealed against me, keeping me thirsty for the clarity of your kiss... Your flesh is like the desert sand, warmth and shifting strength beneath its golden color”

Other fascinating lines from Karen Marie Moning’s Fever series could fit how I picture him and me in a pure act of lovemaking: the kind that would take both of us to another world where we would a deep merging of souls and a total surrender of our bodies;

“He lives

I breathe

I want. Him. Always

Sunshine on ice

Fire to my ice


Ice to his fever

He is in my soul and I am in his

And we are in bed

But we are in desert;

And I don’t know where he begins and I end...”

Chapter Seven

I am sometimes accused of being logical, that I let my

mind rule my heart but most people judge me by my visible part of me and just like an iceberg, deep within me lies intense emotions and overhelming desires that beg for release, that’s why there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of Islam and how I picture my everyday life with him. Sometimes when I’m studying or when I’m staring at my laptop as I did when I was working on a Business Plan, I spent more than 70% of the time I had to get it done


daydreaming about him, or rather about the two of us and even if we don’t talk for days he would haunt my thought, day and night to the point that as soon as I find myself sitting alone, I close my eyes and there he is: pictures of him come in different shapes and sizes, but mostly I imagine him in that black and white checkered shirt with a smile on his nice full lips and a silent invitation in his tender eyes to come home, mind you, I consider hugging him equal to coming home, and that single hug would chase away the darkness in me. I long to lose myself in him and become numb to everything around me except the feeling of the body I crave so much, like it’s been lost from me for centuries and still it is. In my mind’s eyes, his arms are around me, shielding me from the dark, terror and cruelity. He cradles my head to his chest and I am hearing his steady heartbeat, and it all stops there, frozen in time and space, it’s the ultimate union. I’m complete and whole, I don’t know where I am, maybe in another world, another dimension beyond reality. Nothing compares to that sensation... By night I crave his body entwined with mine, and the shirt he’d been wearing at day in my mind’s eyes is teasing my hands, now it’s open in the upper part of his chest and I am opening the buttons, one by one, taking my time to do so, in a few seconds my palms are against his bare chest, savouring the heat of his skin, I am lost and drawing hearts, stars and a moon, I could draw the whole galaxy in there with its countless stars and planets, because I simply cannot get enough of my beloved body, from breeze-like caresses on his face to feather-like kisses to his neck and gentle strokes to his palms. My fantasy never had an end. Each part of his body has a story, and when I realize I’m back to the real world, where there are only tasks and responsibilities to be taken, the imaginary moment of blissful completeness is gone; leaving a feeling of emptiness that ressembles a twisted knife in my heart.


When you find someone who is at the same high level as you, understands your heart desires and wantings and crave the same things as you, and you know if you ever have the chance of becoming together, there will be no barrier, no burden of any kind between the two of you, and deep down you know, yes you know, that you could spend the rest of your life looking for someone to feel this connection and would never find them, and that’s how I feel about Islam.


Date post:	25-Dec-2015
Category:	Documents
Upload:	islam
View:	15 times
Download:	4 times

A Gleam of Dreams

Documents