An oasis in the desert… A drop of water in the hot, silver-white sands in the Arabian desserts. That is what you were to me when we crossed our paths in the Sultanate, thousands of miles away from our homes. You were 13 years my junior when we met. I was married, and you were not. We took solace and comfort in each other's company since we felt alone and unhappy in the environment that we had to work to earn petro-dollars for our respective families at home. It was pure agape (Platonic love). We could have been otherwise, but weren't. We both knew and felt that what we had was as good as it could get, and would be ruined by anything “too intimate” or "more and further”. Love is something inexplicably, indescribably wonderful, bound intricately with life. There may be nothing strictly ordinary as such. At the same time, there never may be something unique as such in this whole world. It should be the strong desire to feel being loved and to experience love that is the last thing a person may find impossible to forego when all else has been lost or abandoned with ease. No matter what social status we enjoy, what station of life we are in, we need love. People tend to do many things for the sake of love which they would have never done under normal circumstances. We do not need lofty things in love. Sometimes things like strolling aimlessly hand in hand on a deserted street, whispering sweet nothings in a quiet beach on a moonlit night, a shoulder to lean on to at least for a moment without fear or suspicion in times of distress, to share ideas about life in a very matured chat, etc. are some of the things that we desire in love. I remember some verses in a song that goes something like this … I have not built sand castles about you, Nor do I entertain any misgivings about you. I will never lay claim to your life, And will not feel angry when and if you belong to someone else. This comes as a very advanced take on the type of love I speak of. The lyricist goes on to say that “don't you ever shed a single drop of tear because of me. Let us agree that we will be lovers that would never unite in life.” Love does not mean to imprison someone within limits and boundaries marked by the other, or anyone else for that matter, but something that transcends beyond that and something that has free reins. Another lyricist, comparing his lover to a star in the distant sky, says, “You be where you are and I will be where I am.” He means to say that you are a star in the distant sky and I am a person living on earth. But you stay where you are, as you are, and I will stay where I am, as I am. The common thing that is binding us together is the empty space between us. You cannot come down to earth from the sky. If that happens, may be I will lose you, and we will lose this moment. Hence you better stay where you are whereas I will stay where I am, watching you. All you have to do is stay put where you are. You don't have to keep saying that you love me. No need to keep reminding about it as if we will forget it. Sometimes, love exists where the words “I love you” are not uttered at all. The problem arises when we try to frame that love and come to terms with accepted social standards. In any bond, there is a point beyond which the bonding loses the tenacity. Hence, in a far-off country, in an unknown city and amongst unknown people, two ‘different' like-minded persons bereft of any kind of ‘love' would have many things to share, wouldn't they? Is it strange and wrong, then, for them to become so close but so far in love and find comfort in each other's warmth? If not for this bonding, the two-year work contract period would have been a hell on earth for both of us. I don't think that you will doubt for a moment that the story of a remarkably beautiful and much younger unmarried woman's brief and circumstantial friendship with a very middle aged and married man is far-fetched. It really happened to me, some 25 years ago. I still remember vividly the day I left her for home. That day, I realized how powerful the platonic love was. The rivulets of tears she shed on my shoulders soaked my shirt so hard that even the almost three-hour flight time back home wasn't enough to dry it completely. It was the day I realized how much tears a person can shed in one go. And that cemented my opinion on how powerful true love, though platonic, could be. I was a middle-aged man who recognized and did what was proper to my station in life with regard to a much younger, very attractive woman fate had put in my path. I never doubt that she would ever forget me too, and I always believe that she loved me as much as it would have been possible for her to do so. Although we have not seen each other after we parted ways, I still cherish that memory and still love her platonically.

The Paris skyline shined brighter that night. Maybe it was the 2nd glass of the cheapest rose we could find, maybe it was the perfectly timed sparkle of the Eiffel tower reflecting on the buildings in sight from my balcony. I laid back in my chair, put my feet on the railing, loosely gripping the thin stem of my wine glass and listened to the sounds of the Paris nightlife. My roommate Anis, sat on the floor next to me and leaned her head into the night. The stars were covered by clouds but still, I could feel them shining light upon the dimly lit streets below us. A woman lit a cigarette and it seemed to awaken something within Anis as her own hand seemed to drift to her sweatshirt pocket by its own accord, pulling out a thin, messily rolled cigarette and brought it to her mouth. She put her hand back into her pocket, but it came out empty, so I reached into my own and pulled out a light pink lighter and lit it myself as she breathed in. She offered me one, but I don't smoke so I shook my head and she went back to synchronizing her breaths to that of the woman on the street beneath us. Soon enough this woman was gone and our focus was on a man standing by the bus stop. I looked to my phone for the time, frowned, and hoped the man wasn't hoping for a ride. The buses were long parked and the metro now full of the homeless in chrysalis, trying to escape the harsh reality of night. Anis gave me the look, the one you give when you've had a bit too much wine and you've decided that you're going to be a dumb college student for a moment, when you want to let everything go and ignore the fact that it's 3 am on a Wednesday night, ignore the 9 am calculus class you have in the morning, ignore the four missed facetime calls from your parents that you only ignored because your phone is already on low battery and you did have some wine so you weren't sure if any of your sentences that came out were even coherent anymore and because you decided you would text them in the morning that you were tired and wanted a good night's rest before your calc test the next morning. Anis's eyes lit up as she opened her mouth as wide as she could. “Yoohoo!” she laughed, as we do on nights like this, shouting into the great expanse hoping that someone may answer us back. I followed suit, we let our laughter die, and we waited. We waited for something, for anything to shout back and remind us we are not alone. We waited for the stars to come out form the curtain of clouds and put on for us a show. We waited for random historical figures of the 1920s to come out of the shadows like they did in that Owen Wilson movie. We waited… and waited… and waited… and waited for what could have been months days, minutes, mere seconds until the sound of the balcony door opening took us out of our trance. “Hey could one of you guys give me light, I think I left my lighter at school,” my other roommate Rebecca asked, leaning her forearms on the railings. My eyes losing their fog looked up to her blankly, handed her my lighter, and went back to look at the guy by the bus stop. But, just as quickly as our voices faded into the atmosphere, he was gone.

Have you ever woke up so early in the morning while the sky is still dark, the quiteness remains around you, you are still on the bed, looking at the ceiling and feeling like you are home? Have you ever thought if you had a power to fly or you can just be wherever you can, you would wish to be first immediately home? Or probably in a silent moment, you just sit, taking a deep breath, looking at the sky, and your heart is just taken away becuase of the distance? Have you ever wondering how is everyone doing there on the other side of the world? Have you ever seen others' posting photos with their family on those social media, and you just miss the time when you used to spend together with your family? Or maybe sometime when you go for a walk, you see parents holding their kid's hands walking around, and you just miss the time when you were young? If you have been that, tell me how do you feel? And what can you do? Sometime it is hard to hold the feeling inside, isn't it? so you let your tear down, and you may feel a bit better. That is your homesick feeling, and yeah, HOME, a place you spend with your family back then. Home, where your past great memories were created. Being homesick is another stage of culture shocks that happens when you are in a foreign country. It is called dissolution. You start missing your hometown, foods, friends, family..etc. Generally, i am talking about students' living and studying abroad. If you are homesick, take a deep breath, keep reminding yourself of the reasons that you decided to come to this place. Start thinking of your goals and your future, reminding yourself that there are still a long way to go through, and of course, there are still lots of fights left to tou. You cannot just stop here or there unless it is finished! Thus, you have to be strong! Only you can make it happens. You have to make your parents proud of what you're going to achieve. You have to focus on the present that you are here, you are on the process of making your dream come true, and no matter how hard it is to bear, you have to keep holding on. Although each step is about breaking a mountain or going through fire, Do it! Being alone or independent is the best opportunity for you to strengthen yourself and develope your maturity. After a year, you will miss today, and you will be proud of a progress you have made through these messy life experiences. When looking back, you will see the different between the Old and the New You. It is not neccesary to let the world knows that you are working hard or having a hard time because only you yourself truly understand how it is. The world will not care what or how you are doing; it will just judge you base on your result, and You deserve more than being judged. Here I am telling you, if you are already here, if you already decided to walk on this way, please give it a big try! Make the best out of it! Struggle as hard as you can! Hold it tight no matter how big the wave is! It's worth trying!! It does ! One day your hard work will paid off. Be here with who you are, take this opportunity to find the best version of yourself. Do not spend too much time being dramatic about life because you will just waste your life times. Have a nice day !!

It's already 8 o'clock in the morning. Sun rays passing through the window and letting his face be seen clear for me. I do really love every traces and angle of his face. I won't get sick every time I looked at him. He's like my happy little pill; every sorrow that I could feel would be gone in an instant just by looking at him. Positioning myself for sitting on top him, I immediately kissed his forehead. Hearing the ringing of the alarm it's waking him up. I rolled my eyes on the clock that disturbed my momentous mesmerizing of him. I just let out a sigh before looking to him again. Seeing his smile early in the morning makes my day energized. I jumped out on the bed and stood up properly in the floor letting him rise up from the bed. Fixing his self before getting out from the room. While we're in dining area, I just sit on the chair in the counter eyeing every movement that he makes in the kitchen. After done cooking and placing every plate in the table he sat on the chair and started on eating. I also sat on a chair in front of him and just looked at him eating. I'm already full just by looking at him even though I'm not eating those foods that he prepared. A ring on a phone breaks the silence all over the unit. He immediately stood up and walked through the living area reaching the phone then answered it. “Ah yes, hello.” He answered through the line and then chuckled. What? He “chuckled”? Just who is on the other line? Is it a witch? I could feel my blood runs through my veins through my brain and I just want to explode. “Yes I could come. I'm free as always… yes we could grab a lunch after… okay then see you later bye.” He puts back the phone and gets back to the dining area on where I am. I could on his face that his excited for later. Oh God! The one on that phone is really getting on my nerves! Because of my anger I suddenly tap the table loud making him looked at my direction seriously. “I'm sorry.” I uttered in a thin air and looked down. He didn't say anything and just continued on cleaning the table. I just sit on the sofa eyeing every movement that he makes again. He was about to walk out on the unit shutting the door when he walked towards on me and kissed me gently on my lips. “I love you.” He said in a sincere and full of truth. After he said that he walks out of the unit. “I love you too.” I finally said it when he was already gone. It made my heart melt when he said those three words. I decided to follow him. I'm right outside of the café looking from a distant for him and finally I saw him inside talking to someone whom I couldn't see because she's facing her back to me. I decided walking inside the café. I walk towards to their direction without looking at them and sit just across to them facing my back to their place. “Why couldn't you just do something that really makes you happy?”The woman said. “Mom, I'm already happy.” He answered. I could hear him sipping through his cup of tea. And the woman that he sees for is his mom. I'm sorry for calling you a witch earlier “mom”. “You should look for a new one.” His mom continued to talk. I let out a long sighed. He better be off with someone. “I can't. She might get hurt.” He responded. My mind is out of thoughts to say when he said those sentences. “Why? She's already gone for god's sake! Why are holding onto someone whose dead for almost 5 years?!” His mom exclaimed in anger making me startled on my seat. “Mom you're voice! Lower it down. Don't make me repeat it for myself too. I know she's already dead but I can see her mom! I could see her!” His voice cracked down. “And it makes my mind go crazy because those every day that I see her, I badly want to kiss her, touch her, cuddles with her like before but I can't mom. I can't because she's dead! She's fucking dead.” I could hear him sobbing in every word that would go out in his mouth. I on the other side finally break down too. Tears travelled down to my cheeks, like cars racing who would get first. All those years, he could see me but he manages not to. I'm sorry. I don't know he suffers like this too much. I can't bear it seeing him like this. I could also hear his mother crying in pain. “I'm sorry son. Just let her go already. We'll be here for you. It's not all just her.” His mother said. His mom is right I should just go. I wanted peace also for him. I run out in the café, facing the place again. I could see him that he saw me. I smiled at him sending my smile as for reassurance that he should let me go and I would be fine by that. For the last time I saw him cried so hard not in my arms but in his mother arms. I love you but I should go.

It's kind of funny thing for me to hold a pen right now and to write down something that is not connected to my study subjects. Last time I wrote an essay in 11 form. It was usually about some books that I've read or just some typical school themes. Now I'm on the 3 course of medical university in Ukraine. And I'm free to write everything that I want. But here is a question. What is the most interesting topic for me? What I want to tell about. That is really complicated. I would love to tell about my exciting hobbies, but I don't actually have any. I don't play any instruments, unbelievably bad at chess and don't really go in for sports. Sounds a little boring, I know. But I've got one thing that I'm really interested in. It is learning languages. Especially English. Not sure that I can call it a “hobby”, but at least it's better than nothing, right? I love watching serials and movies in English (with eng subtitles of cause I'm still not such a good speaker as I dream to be). I also read some books in original as I think that there is no translation which could reproduce the real meaning of the author's words. Not for so long time ago I used to think that my future profession would be connected to learning English. I dreamed to be a translator or even some ambassador. But my parents convinced me to choose medicine as it is more achievable to me. The whole first course I was regretting about this choice. The only thing I liked was English. And in my university there was only 1 lesson of English per week. One, Carl! The second course didn't actually differ. But this year I found out that there are a lot of people like me in my university. People who love English and would like to study it. And then I've decided to make an English club for these people. It's like some informal meetings after lessons. I usually prepare some presentations, videos and games for every time. At first it was really scary for me to imagine myself talking in front of an auditory like a lector. But everything has changed after the first lesson. It's unbelievable feeling to share my experience with other people and to see the way they like it. I really do my best for these lessons and I feel such a pleasure when I see that people appreciate it. My faculty is dentistry so I usually try to connect my themes with some dental issues. For example, we learn about caries and other diseases, teach each other how to communicate with our patients in English and so on. My students ( if I can call them like that 😄) like it and this is the most important part for me. Everybody is free to say everything he wants and nobody is ashamed to ask for a help with some grammar or to say “I don't understand”. It's OK. Because that's what we are doing. Studying! I'm glad to explain things as many times as person needs to be sure that he/she has got everything on well. Practice makes perfect! I don't know what my life is going to be in 2 years, but the only thing I'm sure about is that I want to connect my future with English. Studying or teaching? Both! Because I'm convinced that you can never be a good teacher if you don't improve yourself. Am I sure that my dreams will come true? No. But nothing is impossible for a willing heart. Right?☺️

It's kind of funny thing for me to hold a pan right now and to write down something that is not connected to my study subjects. Last time I wrote an essay in 11 form. It was usually about some books that I've read or just some typical school themes. Now I'm on the 3 course of medical university in Ukraine. And I'm free to write everything that I want. But here is a question. What is the most interesting topics for me? What I want to tell about. That is really complicated.\nI would love to tell about my exciting hobbies, but I don't actually have any. I don't play any instruments, unbelievably bad at chess and don't really go in for sports. Sounds a little boring, I know. But I've got one thing that I'm really interested is. It is learning languages. Especially English. Not sure that I can call it a \u201chobby\273, but at least it's better than nothing, right? \nI love watching serials and movies in English (with eng subtitles of cause I'm still not such a good speaker as I dream to be). I also read some books in original as I think that there is no translation which could reproduce the real meaning of the author's words.\nNot for so long time ago I used to think that my future profession would be connected to learning English. I dreamed to be a translator or even some ambassador. But my parents convinced me to choose medicine as it is more achievable to me. The whole first course I was regretting about this choice. The only thing I liked was English. And in my university there was only 1 lesson of English per week. One, Carl! \nThe second course didn't actually differ. But this year I found out that there are a lot of people like me in my university. People who love English and would like to study it. And then I've decided to make an English club for these people. It's like some informal meetings after lessons. I usually prepare some presentations, videos and games for every time. At first it was really scary for me to imagine myself talking in front of an auditory like a lector. But everything has changed after the first lesson. It's unbelievable feeling to share my experience with other people and to see the way they like it. I really do my best for these lessons and I feel such a pleasure when I see that people appreciate it. \nMy faculty is dentistry so I usually try to connect my themes with some dental issues. For example, we learn about caries and other diseases, teach each other how to communicate with our patients in English and so on. My students ( if I call them like that ) like it and this is the most important part for me. Everybody is free to say everything he wants and nobody is ashamed to ask for a help with some grammar or to say \253I don't understand\273. It's OK. Because that's what we are doing. Studying! I'm glad to explain things as many times as person needs to be sure that he/she has got everything on well. Practice makes perfect!\nI don't know what my life is going to be in 2 years, but the only thing I'm sure about is that I want to connect my future with English. Studying or teaching? Both! Because I'm convinced that you can never be a good teacher if you don't improve yourself. \nAm I sure that my dreams will come true? No. But nothing is impossible for a willing heart. Right?