Banned from blogging

In Arabic at least, by my friends who know about this blog, very few they are if I might point out. Not my friends, but the ones who know about the blog. Something, perhaps insignificant, happened yesterday and when I expressed my wish to write about it, in an attempt to make a point that I was fine really and feeling content, I got orders, and pleas, not to write about it, because when I write in Arabic, I tend to "wander" and torture myself.

I'll bend the regulations a little, and write in English.

There is a misconception about being a giving person. See a giving person should give to everyone. Should not await anything in return. It's not about being on one end of the two-way-receive-and-give relation. No.

So when someone needs you, needs a push up, needs support, you must give, without hesitation or questioning. Even if the other person doesn't have any care for you, even if, I dare say, he has hurt you, even if he's not a giver by nature.

I give to feel good about me. The "me" who will be there for me until the end of life..

The person who has been occupying a huge room of my thoughts and feelings lately wasn't doing so well, in something that is crucial to him, I know it. Although I've vowed not to exceed the minimal amount of communication in words between us, you know, me being the only one who still haven't moved on, I could not. Simply could not. Not because I'm a good kind-hearted angel or any of that crap. Here he was. Telling me things weren't fine. He needed support. A little push up. A tiny reminder to boost his self-confidence and make him trust he's greater than all those problems which would soon vanish, because he can do it.

I told my friend later, who blamed me big time, that I believe I did the right thing. I did the right thing, and I knew I'm not getting anything in return. It felt good.

That's how I know things haven't broken me. Not yet.