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.

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Chapter One

...

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 isnt 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 dont 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 pages 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
Ive 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 everybodys face without
expecting something in return , A LOVER OF HUMANITY if I
must say ! I remember going to bed that night feeling
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content despite the fact that Ive 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 thats 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 Ive 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

is name is Islam. Its 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 ...Im 24 , my 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. Its true that
when you chat with someone online, you dont know whos
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
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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 its 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 youre sitting alone in
a room looking outside as the rain fall against your window
and thats exactly how it seems to me , there were times
when he couldnt 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 doesnt 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 dont voice their needs, letting their gentle souls
bear it all , doing whatever it takes to emerge the next day
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feeling energetic and brilliant as ever , and Islam was one

of those people...

Chapter Three

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 theres 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, its when the
others 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 Islams pictures, I instantly
loved the way he looked, he had penetrating dark eyes, nice
full lips, high cheekbones and a square jaw; sometimes I
cant 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 shouldnt
feel for a man whos living 2280 miles away and that I
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could easily lose contact with; I dont 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 , its
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 Im sure if I see someone wearing the same shirt
I would indeniably think of Islam and smile to myself, but I
wont feel the same because that someone wouldnt have a
warm heart, wouldnt make time for other people and
wouldnt love freedom and humanity, he wouldnt be so
forgiving and wouldnt make time to inspire other people,
he wouldnt pull himself together after a sad night and
wouldnt get touched by a story of an old couple who stayed
with each other for 50 years and still they love each other,
he wouldnt believe love is a meeting of souls, he simply
wouldnt be Islam...

Chapter Four

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oday Ive 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 dont
think so, and Im sure you too whos 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 dont
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 its hard to believe what
you just read, but its true, and since then I always
pictured Islam as a kid, probably with so much energy
running around and finally coming back to his mothers
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
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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
everythings 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 youre hungry, maybe you werent 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, theres something unique about him that he probably
doesnt realize, but Im sure his mother did notice,
because she had those qualities too on her own way...
Its true that Ive known Islam for only a few months, I
dont know about the future and for how much time I would
have the pleasure to talk to him and to have those
conversations, and its true too that I havent seen him,
I havent had the opportunity to sit and look into his
eyes as he is talking, but Ive 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 doesnt
know that I think about his mother everytime I talk to him
and still dont know why, its enough that my favourite
song of all times One Last Goodbye by Anathema reminds
me of her...

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Chapter Five

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 couldnt
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 womans 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 goodlooking face suggests that they are of an optimistic nature
and that they see the good in others; and since he draws a
womans face then I think he sees good in women in
particular more than he does in men; and this brings again
his mothers 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
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him being an emotional man who wants harmony and craves

affection... He craves affection and I am longing to give it
to him, isnt this some sort of mirroring each others
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. Its in the middle of that magical view
that he finds answers to his questions; its his way of
connecting to the loved ones he cant reach, its 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, its not that he is a childish man, nor
does it shows a lack of maturity of his part; its 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.
Theres something me and Islam have in common and that I
like too much: Its the love for nature and its wonders, I
know he would love a long walk in a green forest and he
wouldnt 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, Im 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.

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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

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

comes to that, he loves calm, beautiful music with nice

simple lyrics, hed never suggest a sad song except for
My Immortal by Evanescence, but thats another story...
We were talking one day and he just sent me a song out of
the blue; the songs title was Take My Heart. It felt
great to see those three words on my laptops 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 cant 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
Im the one for you, youre the one for me...
I thought for a moment, are we really meant to be? Is this
something I shouldve realized by now? and Oh, how I wished
those words were true!!
Theres nothing that can fascinate me more than wellwritten 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... Theres that book I read three years ago, called
As You Desireby Connie Brockway. Its 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:
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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 Monings 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;

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And I dont know where he begins and I end...

Chapter Seven

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, thats why theres not a day that goes by that I
dont think of Islam and how I picture my everyday life
with him. Sometimes when Im studying or when Im 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 dont 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
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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 its been lost from me for centuries
and still it is. In my minds 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, its the
ultimate union. Im complete and whole, I dont 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 hed been
wearing at day in my minds eyes is teasing my hands, now
its 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 Im 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 thats how I feel about Islam.

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