Saturday, 9 June 2018


I saw him in Cannes the first time I knew I wanted him. He was with a group of pretentious kuwaiti young millionaires ( I heard the girls talk) wearing identical ridiculous straw hats and linen shirts. His ruggedness and scruffiness were what drew me to him. He didn’t belong in those clothes, he was way too large and tall to be contained in such delicate material. A cigar in his calloused hand, he looked my way briefly and then never again. I was slightly dissapointed , I was all tanned and sombre haired and wearing a lovely white summer dress and he didn’t give me the day of day. Luckily he stayed in the same hotel as moi   , I had to have him. 

The next day I decided to play stalker and go to the exact same restaurant and lounge he was going to. I made an effort to look effortless; messy ponytail , statement earrings and less of everything else  

I didn’t tell any of the girls my plan of attaining Mr sexy afraid to jinx it . And I hoped as hell that he’d notice me this once. 

Our table was perfectly in the middle but I didn’t spot him or his friends. Where the hell was he? My heart was beginning to feel heavy with disappointment when My eyes finally landed on the bar ; where he was. With a girl. 

With a girl!

A gorgeous model like brunette with legs for days. “ tikfoon shofaw the kuwaiti guy over there ma3aah wa7da ajnabya wai moo layeg” I say to the whole group. 

“ I know who that is , egoloon he only dates foreign girls malat”

“ what?” Nooooooo

“ yes ma3roof madry shlaagi feehom, 7ta he dated that famous brazillian model”

“ 3ishtaaaaw”

And suddenly when I took a huge bite of bread, smudging my carefully applied lip stain, he decided to look my way and lock eyes...

Friday, 10 March 2017

angel vs devil

I met Angel six months ago. I love him too much. He's too good to me. He's tender, loving and faithful , And I'm the only girl in his life. He's too good, too pure. He's rich, he's from a good family , every sane girl wants to land him as a husband, girls follow him, talk about him endlessly and I've always wanted him. Until He became mine. I still cant believe he loves me this much. He's the best thing that ever happened to me and I was so content with him; I was so content with everything until I met devil.

I'm physically attracted to the devil. He's bad influence, he's corrupt, a fallen angel, the darkest most damage soul I'd ever met. He's beyond redemption. Yet I still want to save him. I love angel, I cant live without angel but I cant stop thinking about devil. He only wants me sexually, he wants to use my body and discard me and then move on to another innocent soul yet I still want him, I still have scorching hot dreams about him, I want to taste him, feel him, know him but I cant. I dont want to ruin my relationship with the best man in the world. I dont want to ruin my life for someone my body needs not my heart.

Guilt and sexual frustration are both killing me.

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

New blog

diaries of a blogger back from the dead

Wednesday, 28 December 2016


A stab of longing engulfed my heart. Oh how I wanted him to kiss me and hold me and tell me that everything was going to be alright, that he wanted only me and no one else. But the truth was different and this time I had enough my pride and heart were both deeply injured. Rejection is hard. It kills, and my desire for him was deeply unfulfilled , and that made me so desperate.

" No" I said. " stay away from me"

" dont make this hard Shaikha Im trying to apologize"

" Save it. I dont want one. Just leave me alone to sleep" 

He sighed in exasperation. "you will regret this"

FUCK OFF, I thought angrily. I was really starting to loathe him.

I tossed and turned at least for a couple of hours until exhaustion claimed me. I slept alone, without his annoying presence and I felt totally alone. I woke at five AM with a horrendous headache, I automatically reached for my phone and just like I'd expected, there was a whatsapp from race guy.

" awake?"

" I am now, are you?"

less than a minute later. " yes, wanna talk?"

" mmhm, tell me everything"

" can I call?"

" texts are safer.."

"okay.., enti min ziman 3ajbatni, unfortunately I didnt have the time to introduce myself, I went away for work and you got ni6arteni, and now it doesnt seem that you're happy, not judging, but after that fateful incident at the airplane, I was sure than you were not happy, I even thought you were divorced.. you've been on my mind since forever, for some reason dashaity kha6ri , cant stop pursuing you, and now that happened and I cant stop"

" what happened in the airplane I cant remember" I was panicking here, truly cant remember.

" nothing major, but you seemed sad and jilted. I couldnt believe I was given a second chance, tell me to stop and I will.."

his words were like a sweet balm to my broken heart, I couldnt resist, didnt want them to stop. " and now what do you want?"

" are you happy?"

" no, he doesnt love me but he wont give me divorce either"

" hmm, seperated?"

" yes, I'm sure I dont want to talk or see him ever again"

" I dont want to make this even harder. "

" you're not. I need a friend, without judgment"

" I can be that"

" a friend only. no more"

" fair enouh, friends can meet for coffee, come to my office at 5?"

I had nothing to lose. " yes. goodnight"

" goodnight"

strangely enough I slept soundly til one PM. He wasnt around, at work probably..good, I had wicked plans with another man. I still cant believe that I'm letting myself talk to someone else, its considered cheating right? oh, but I was lonely..

I spent my entire day trying to relax, with shows, magazines and home spa but deep down I was nervous as hell. the whole meeting him at his office sounded sordid, I was a married woman for god's sake.

I dont know if I should go...

Saturday, 6 August 2016


Hello readers! I'm trying so hard not to get distracted with life and post at least once a week. شجعوني

Yours truly -moi

Sunday, 15 May 2016

Betrayal (11)

Major dissapointment. And I wasn't even hopeful. Suddenly my new found confidence of this morning vanished. I felt  so small,  merely passaple,insignificant..and he wasn't even trying to make me feel all those things. He didn't do anything. 

A fat hot tear escaped my left eye landing on my cheek " oh" 

I guess I thought It wouldn't hurt this much anymore, I guess I forgot how deeply in love I was with him, how his good looks and intelligence already made me feel less. And now the fact That another woman ,who is probably smarter and more interesting captures his heart added to it all. 

I never really thought less of myself, I'd always felt content and happy with the way I looked, my upbringing and education..Funny how one person can change that fact and affect one deeply. 

More hot, burning tears. I blindly reached for my phone and sent him a text. I clearly was using him and I didn't care. 

* I want to see you*

*you will tonight*

* you okay?*

* yes. No*

* we'll talk about it tonight ok? I got training* 

Of course. I threw my phone away and layed down on the bed , A little nap would have to do since the rebound guy can't be of use right now. 

I blew my nose , popped a nice little anti depressant and was lost to the world. 

I awoke hours later, head pounding from all the crying and well the long sleep. I rushed to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for the race. Husband was MIA. Surprise. 

Fourty minutes later I was in distressed , butt flattering jeans, a white v neck tee and stella mccartney Elyse platform shoes. I spent extra ten minutes perfecting my feline eyeliner and powdered my nose. I grabbed my purse and my car keys and left. 

It was my very first time attending a car race and oh boy was it delightful! The adrenaline-pumped atmosphere, the amount of youth cheering and clamoring and the whole excitement of it. it was all too contagious ; My heart rate quickly escalating, the fear factor along with the awareness that a bunch of hot guys were going fast with sexy race cars was just addictive. 

And then someone announced something and I could spot a bunch of men in racing overalls and helmets running towards their tiny cars and the race began. The crowd went wild. 

He won. Of course he did. And something else happened that night too; I kind of developed a serious crush on him. Maybe it was his tall, muscular form in the racing overalls, his thick hair sticking to his head from sweat or the fact that he smiled at me and a single dimple popped in his right cheek. I'm sure it wasn't that superficial but god I couldn't stop thinking about him. 

That was one brief not so personal encounter , a quick hi and a nod and then he left. I was a little dissapointed honestly but I understood, he had to celebrate or accept an award or something. I was in awe of him. Strange. 

An hour later when the whole thing was over I went to my car, banishing any hopes of seeing him again. I dropped down on the seat and started the engine. Nothing. I tried again harder but it wouldn't come to life. Oh shit shit shit. I obviously had a dead battery. 

I emmediately called The husband of the year. Surprisingly, he didn't pick him. I tried his number three more times. Nothing. Cold fury grabbed hold of my chest travelling to brain and blinding me with it. My hands shook violently, I was so pissed I saw red, why the fuck didn't he pick up??? Who was I supposed to call?? It was eleven fucking o'clock and he didn't bother to even call and ask about my whereabouts. The hot pressure of tears behind my eyes began to choke me, clogging my throat. No, no , no I wasn't going go cry for someone who didn't deserve my tears. 

I fumbled with my phone and my eyes landed on his number. Was I this desperate? Before I even managed to answer to that thought, my shaking hands were dialling his number. I was alone and stranded in a dark parking lot, of course I was desperate. 

" hala" on the second ring. 

" sorry to bother but I think I've a dead battery" my voice was small, a little timid. 

" wainich? Lock your doors. Coming now" 

I sighed in relief. Sweat gathering between my breats, at my hairline and under arms. Shit. 

Five minutes later he tapped on my windshield still in his sexy overalls. 

My heart thudded in my chest. I gulped and rolled down the window. 

" haa 3asa ma sharr?"

" my car won't start " my voice all shaky and strange to me. 

"Basee6a I'll fix it enshallah" 

I nodded and he went to work, connecting our cars with cables and stuff   . I watched him silently, my sudden awareness of him intensifying..was his hair always this thick? Was he always this gorgeously tall and fit? Even his ass looked fine. Shit, this wasn't good. 

" try to start it now" He finally announced. 
And it did work because he's obviously good with his hands. I blushed. 

" thank you you saved me!" I said. 

" any time" that dimple popped again. Shit, shit, shit. 

" so.."

" I.."

We said together and laughed awkwardly. 

" you have to go" he said , frowning. 

" yes, I ..I'm still not sure what you want from me" 

" isn't it obvious? "

" why?"

" is this really a good time?"

" no but you have to understand where I come from. I'm a good girl "

" I know you are!" He said fiercely. " shaikha, this isn't about me using you or anything I just..its a long story ok? Want to talk tonight? I'll tell you everything"

" okay" 

When I returned back home, asshole's car was already there and that only intensified my anger and dissapointment. 

He was there all along, how come he never checked his phone?! Wasn't he always texting his whore?

Fuming, I took the lift and stormed into the apartment. He was in that blasted divan , lying down. 

" laish ma trid?" I said, barely containing my incredible hulk fury. 

" na3am? Shfech dasha chethy" he sat up slowly. 

" Laish ma radat 3la my zillion phonecalls???" Ok I lost it. 

" shtaben y3ni? I was busy"

" busy watching tv?!?? Sayarti kanat wagfa ma dagait 3lek ela l2na mako a7ad eyey eshof eshsalfat elkhara-" shit I totally lost it. 

His face changed now, guilt masking his hard , cold features. 

" I didn't know that.., shaikha I.., who fixed it?"

" some gentleman , a total stranger. Thank you very much maby minik shay" I choked on a sob and fled to the bedroom. 

I was hurt. He didn't give a rat's ass about me , he had absolutely no feelings whatsoever for me, even that slight respect was gone. I lost all respect for him, he wasnt man enough, he didnt care. I'm over this so over this. I let the sobs take over lying on the bed with my shoes and purse and all. 

A minute later I heard the door knob turning and then heavy human weight shifting the bed. What now? 

His hand reached for my back , shocking me , was he really apologizing? 

I flinched and moved away. 

" I'm sorry shayookhi" what??! He never calls me anything like that! He must be feeling awfully guilty. I stilled and he moved closer , I could feel his warmth pressing against me. His fingers brushed my golden strands softly, moving it away from my neck. " I'm sorry babe" he whispered in my eyes and kissed my neck. 

It felt good, so good . 

Will shaikha end up with Mubarak or Abdulwahab? Vote. 

Monday, 25 April 2016

Betrayal (10)

10 minutes passed and I was still staring at his text message. The strange thing was that he obviously knew who I was.. How did he know my number? And he acted all honorable when I mentioned my marriage and now he seemed more than eager to text. 

*already regretting it?* I jumped when I recieved the second message , okay this was too late I initiated this, I might as well finish it. 

* no. How are you?* I sent, feeling less like myself, my self image dimming fast through my eyes. 

* didnt expect you to text. I'm glad*

*... Why?*

*want a piece of shaikha pie *


* seriously, I like you, you intrigue me*

My stomach flipped. I intrigued him? Warmth spread throughout my entire body, it's been a long time Since someone last gave me his full and undivided attention. It felt nice. 

* you don't even know me*

* I want to know everything, I have all night..*

* what do you want to know? I want to know things too*

* I'm 30. I drive for a living. I love beauty*

* drive?*

A minute later he sent me a picture of himself with the whole professional driving gear and helmet and one hell of a sexy race car. 

*oh. No experience whatsoever eb hl sowalif.. I still don't know what you want from me*

* I want to be your friend*

* no you dont. What do you want?*

* you. I want to be your friend and get to know you.  Simple*

* you dont mind the fact that I'm unavailable?*

* you didnt give me that impression. Besides all I want is friendship for now*

I was all sweat by now. I didn't know what to say to him really, my husband was snoring right beside me and I was texting another man I barely knew. 

* I better get to bed*

I turned my phone off, popped a sleeping pill and attempted to sleep. My buzzing mind keeping me from rest. 

When I woke up the next morning , Mubarak was already gone. Of course. 

My stomach dipped when I opened my phone and saw two texts from the mysterious guy. 

* already?*

*ok. Sleep tight*

I sighed and deleted the texts. And then I did a full google search on him. Wow, he really was something in that strange world of racing I knew nothing about. I was suddenly interested in knowing about the races. His social media accounts were now saved in my phone, plus a couple of pictures of him in his driving gear/suit with his racing car. My recklessnes continued with another google search of a certain ugly marriage wrecker. The bitch. 

I showered, curled my hair to perfection and put on a sky blue sundress. Looking like shit won't make me feel any better about myself and sure as hell won't bring my husband back to me;that's why I put on extra effort with my looks today. 

By the time I was finished getting ready it was already past one and I'd made plans with some friends for lunch. Again, willowing in self pity and shutting everyone out won't make things better..

Just when I was about to park in our favorite dining spot , I recieved a whatsapp. Oh god, it was him again! I gulped. 

* hey * one word. That was safe yet I felt all prickly and guilty and weird. 

Damn it Shaikha! You should feel guilty...

My fingers obviously had a mind of their own because I found myself sending back *hey*

I dropped my phone in my purse, turned off the ignition and got out of the car. 

I won't check my phone, I won't check my phone, I WONT CHECK MY DAMN PHONE!

" shayooookh!" 

Phew, a lucky distraction. I waved back at my friend, give her a quick hug and we head inside the restaurant, chattering all the way through. 

Friends are great; they do make you forget your reality for a while. And it's been a long time since I last really hung out with my favorite group..I guess I got really distracted with the whole wedding thing. What a waste. 

We ate and laughed and talked and it was really great , plus I didn't check my phone once , Not that I didn't think about it, but I kinda wanted to make him wait..and I also wanted , really wanted to get a text from my husband. 

Unfortunately there was none from Mubarak and a couple from sexy stranger. I sat in my car and stared at his texts for minutes too long. 

* how are you?*
* I've a race today, wish me luck*

* I've never been to one* I finally replied back. * and goodluck* 

* really?* He replied immediately * want to  see your first race?*

Yes! * yes* 

* ok, I'll arrange a good seat for you and I'll send you the location*

* great. Thank u*

Oh my god. A car race! I don't recognize myself anymore..

When I arrived back to the apartment , mubarak was there lying on the L shaped sofa, remote control in one hand. He looked yummy , I sighed in defeat. 

The sound of my heels made him turn his head my way, his eyes lingering on my legs. I felt heat gathering in the pit of my stomach, damn him for making me feel this way. 

And then he nodded breifly and turned back to his documentary , as If I didn't exist..