📘 The Life of Giving (Part 10)

Do you know the heavy feeling in your body? It’s like your weight is a thousand kilos, and your entire body is numb, you can’t feel your legs, and your mind just starts to overwork itself because there isn’t a way out of this situation.
If you know this feeling, you have either been in some deep unsolvable problems, or you had a nasty accident. Either way, I’m glad you’ve overcome it and are now reading this.

There I was, in my bed, opening one message after the other. They were really bad messages from my friends, my family, and even some people from the company I worked at, but there were also many of them from numbers I didn’t have in my phonebook. Some of the messages had a link in them, it was a link leading to a public forum where a video of me was posted. In this video, I was being violently fucked by Samer, my face was clearly visible and I was being spanked hard by him, spat on and called a bitch, a faggot and a Muslim cumdump. His face was, however, not visible. The forum post contained my name and my mobile phone number as well.
This was also the first time I experienced a panic attack. I will not go deeper into the feelings about this, but I will tell you that a feeling such as this stays in you forever. It is a feeling of your life vanishing in front of your life, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

I have turned off the phone and went online on my PC, it seemed like it was the only place nobody could see my online presence at this point. I opened the forum and read the comments, refreshing the site every couple of seconds. The comments were pouring in at the speed of light, some of them were “funny”, while others were just horrible. It is not every day that you get judged just by your appearance and it’s not also every day that you get your sexlife public in such a graphic manner. I felt, well, violated. Believe it or not, the question or better yet, a conclusion, of who (could) have done it came a bit later, actually as soon as the forum post got deleted by the moderator. It was online for 4 hours and I was watching it gain traction and get deleted too. For me, there really wasn’t any doubt on who could have done it. There is no way that a sex tape could be made by someone else then one or both people who were in it. And since I’ve never recorded anything like it in my life, it would only make sense that Samer did it. Reflecting on the fact that I could actually vaguely remember the sex session that was recorded, I knew that it was recorded just a few weeks before the “marriage thing” and our breakup.

I’ve felt disappointed and scared. Sure, the forum post was deleted, but can anything posted online ever really be deleted? And could all of the people who were calling or messaging me unsee the video? No. There is no going back anymore. I started to realize that my parents are probably going to find out about this. I was hoping they at least won’t have to see it. As if this could be a better deal for them or for me…

The next morning I’ve turned my phone on again. The number of messages was insane, and I just couldn’t force myself to open any of them yet. However, I texted my boss telling her I won’t be able to make it to work, and she literally told me that the company is putting me at “hold” until my contract expires, so I won’t have to show up to work ever again, and my contract won’t be extended.
I’ve called my parents, but neither of them picked up the phone.
I’ve called Hassan as well, and told him what happened. He had no idea.

There wasn’t much I could do at that point in my life. I was thinking, could I even go grocery shopping anymore? I have stayed in my apartment for a couple of days just ordering takeout food and avoiding any source of communication. My parents eventually called me back just to tell me that I’m not going to be welcome to their home ever again. It was actually a very polite, yet devastating conversation.
Then the police knocked on the doors, asking if any of this was my doing, if I knew it was being recorded and if I knew who would post this video online like this. As wrecked as I was, I didn’t tell them who it was. I never even told them who the sexual partner from the video was. My telling them that I don’t remember who it was just made them even more comfortable to look and talk to me like I’m the most promiscuous, fugly and disgusting whore.

There are many hours missing from my days, some days are missing from my memory completely. After a week or so, the messages stopped and the calls stopped as well. People got bored of me not answering or giving any sort of reaction to their bullshit. Hassan called every day though, wanting to visit me and getting constantly rejected by me. Some days he even came to my doors and left some necessities in on the doorstep. My other, older friends never bothered to do that.
But life seemed pointless at that point so after the initial storm calmed down, I’ve decided to dress some baggy clothes, put a cap and go for the evening service at the church, talk to the priest I’ve known since I was a child. When I arrived there, I went directly for the confession booth and waited for the service to end. The priest came into the booth and I’ve started to talk to him about what happened. As soon as he realized who I was, he asked me to leave, telling me it was not a good idea to be there and that there is nothing that he can do for me. That evening, while on my way home, I’ve stopped at the tools shop and bought a thick rope so I could hang myself later. I came home and found a letter on my doorstep.

“Your body might have been violated and your soul crushed, your pride destroyed and your life changed. But you were and forever will be one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Please, let’s meet. I really want to be there for you.
Love,
Hassan”

All this time I didn’t cry about any of the horrible things that have happened, but the physical letter, a kindness from a person that has been in my life for the shortest period, this is what made me tear up and really burst into tears.
I have played with fire, and it was stupid of me to think I could come out of it without a burn. All of the signs, I have ignored them or I’ve translated them to something meaningful, something I could cope with. The truth was, Samer was always a guy who’d go to long lengths just to prove a point and control my life. This time he went even further by proving me that I have zero power of what happens to me. But what Samer forgot all about is the kindness of a stranger that comes when it’s most unexpected, when you’re at your worst place in life. The same kindness I’ve shown him at the beginning of our relationship, and the kindness he took for granted and disregarded was now being shown to me by the guy that I’ve done a great injustice to, who’s kindness I considered boring and whom I’ve rejected at one point in my life.

It’s funny how life works, most of the time you get a full circle that closes on you. Most of the times you are not aware that it’s even happening. Some circles close and they don’t really make a noise, because they’re insignificant or small. But the bigger ones make a huge impact and when they do, they really make you reconsider your choices and your behavior.

If you’ve thought this story had a happy ending, or that this chapter is going to be about me getting double dicked, you’ve obviously either lived a happy life or you haven’t lived through any real situation in life. You might ask why didn’t I report Samer when I had the chance, as it would be a logical thing to do.
Destruction is an interesting thing. Sometimes it is just that: destroying things and watching them collapse. But most of the time, destruction means that you hold something so dear, so valuable, that you’d rather destroy it completely then let others have it. That’s why they say that in love and war everything is allowed.

Does the story end here? No, because I didn’t kill myself, obviously! The characters from this story have marked my life forever and they will because of it always be a part of my future.
It is just the end of an era, the end of a chapter in life, the end of The Life of Giving.