Caged Nightingale

42- Saara

I don't know what's happening to me. I lose all motivation. I sleep non-stop rarely leave the bedroom. Stop eating, stop dancing and stop living.
I have no energy, not even to think about what Atif said to me. I'm exhausted in everyway possible.
I wake up, brush my teeth, shower, change and then get back into bed. I can't even explain why. There is a food tray outside my room 3 times a day and it stays that way.
In the evening, i come out and sit on the sofa and turn on the tv minutes before Atif comes home, as if to feign some level of normalcy.
When we make love, Atif is gentle, almost scared of hurting me, but i loose myself in him and it doesnt matter how considerate he is- it still hurts. It hurts so much because i know I'm going to leave him. I can't live her forever. No matter how much I like Atif. I can't live in this gilded cage like a wild animal kept captive. I can't be Atif's nightingale.

Deep inside I know something is broken. I am broken. When Asim died I felt a part of me was gone. Now, I am scared, frightened. As if I'm living on borrowed time. Every moment in Atif's world is dangerous for me. I don't want to form an attachment with Atif that will kill me when I sever it. It's self preservation.
Then why does it hurt so much when I see the affection in his eyes, or the fear, or the worry? Why does my chest implode when I think about going home? Why does this world (in which I exist but don't live in) feel easy?
Atif is smart, clever, sexy, arrogant, self serving. He doesnt need me, he'll land on his feet. He'll have a new woman to keep his bed warm for him after I leave- probably the same week.
But the thought is unsettling. The thought is lame, sits feebly in my mind.
I'm just another one of his conquests. He says he loves me, but men will say anything to get what they want. Look at Qadir. I can't think of a single lie he wouldn't have told to get me within his grasp. It was only because he had to face a bigger bully that he backed down.
I don't want to believe this thing between Atif and me is anything more than a fling. When i look back at this it will be at the two people Ayla and Atif and the precious moments they had together- not Saara and Atif. That way maybe it won't hurt as much.
I don't like change: The lie I tell myself every day, trying to explain the reason for the ache in my chest. I'm a creature of habit and the lifestyle Atif occupies- which once seemed alien- has become the new normal. The thought of moving on is uncomfortable- but necessary. Painful endings are the signs of new beginnings.
Atif says nothing. Not one word. The worry in his eyes in those first few days, is replaced with resignation. He stops asking what's wrong. Instead he speaks through his touch. He holds me tight in the night, strokes my hair, and laces his fingers through mine. His eyes are warm, his smile sad.
Then one morning, i wake up and see a green waxed booklet on my bed side table. The passport.