Damia II

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As soon as the clock struck 0700hrs, Damia pulled on a t-shirt, a simple slip-on hijab, track bottoms and her worn down green hoodie to go for a jog. When she put on her running shoes, she saw how used (‘dilapidated’ even) her they were, and made a mental note to get a new pair. She drove the short distance to Taman Tasik Titiwangsa, her favorite park in the city, and already she saw early-morning runners pacing themselves. This early on, the air of Kuala Lumpur was still cool, still touched on by the breath of last night. A faint breeze even made it chilly, and Damia zipped her hoodie all the way up below her chin.

Damia started to run. She was a good, not great, runner. Back in her school days, she regularly got into the top ten at every annual merentas desa she participated in. She always maintained a steady pace, controlling her breathing, and today was no exception. Damia circled the lake, and within half an hour had already done three laps. A few young male joggers threw her admiring glances, and one even ran up beside her and asked if she wanted to run together. She had politely declined, and stepped up her pace.

Damia wanted to be alone with her thoughts. Staying at home wasn’t helping. By running, she felt freer, more at ease with herself. As she ran, she thought about the events of the past few weeks. How it had snowballed out of the blue, and caught her off-guard.

Her younger sister, Dianna, had been shocked when she told her that she was going to call it off with Dhani.

“But why?” Dianna had asked. “Wait, what happened?” So Damia recounted a more condensed tale of what went on, choosing to leave out the more lurid details.

“But he seemed so sweet and nice. And hot too. Aw, cripes,” Dianna had said.

Damia had bit her lip thoughtfully. “They all are.”

The sun started to show it’s face over the jagged skyline of Kuala Lumpur. Damia figured she could run for another hour or so before it got too stuffy and hot.

She wondered about her luck with men. Dhani had been only her second boyfriend, and he, too, turned out to be just the same guy Amir is. Maybe she was attracted to these jerks? No, no, that wasn’t it. She supposed it was just bad luck.

But Dhani said he changed because of me, she thought. Then dismissed it. It seemed too cliché. 

Who knows what lies in the hearts of men, especially men like Amir and now, it seems, Dhani. She recalled all those other cliches about men that cheat, and men that treat women like disposable toys rather than meaningful pursuits. Damia almost wanted to believe that all men are like that, even when she knows that simply isn’t true.

In truth, she missed Dhani very much, because she loved him very much. She missed Dhani to the point where she shed tears at night, thinking about him and missing him with every minute that passes by. But she was too proud to admit it to him, and too angry to have found out about his life before her.

That was before me, Damia thought. Maybe he really meant it when he said he’s a changed man.

This thought, too, was dismissed as quickly as the wind that rushes by her ears as she runs. The dismissal was either by her anger, or her pride. Maybe even both. She couldn’t believe that someone could change so easily.

Human beings are creatures of habit; it’s impossible that Dhani, that so called Flower Heart, could turn a new leaf overnight over one girl. Over her. She recalled those damned pictures Amir had sent her. They were so obscene, so lurid, so… pornographic, yes, that’s the word. Those pictures had offended her beyond measure.

Suppose she was being self righteous? After all, her own history wasn’t drawn on clean sheets either. But, in her defence, she thought, she had been faithful to just one guy. Not that that was a good argument, but she had been in it for love. I didn’t spread my legs for any guy that passed me by, and believe me, people have tried. 

Her point was, she felt betrayed, by Amir back then, and by Dhani now.

But he didn’t cheat on you… right? Right?

Damia didn’t know, and would rather not know.

So why can’t you forgive him?

She was perspiring heavily now, the sweat dripping off her brows and nose, and she could feel her clothes sticking to her skin. But she didn’t stop running. She kept on, not even feeling tired.

I can’t forgive him because I am scared. I am scared if I forgive him and carry on, I will end up loving him too much, so much, and then one day wake up only to realize that history has repeated it self, and that I will find or catch Dhani with his pants down, thrusting away at some tasty little tart he picked up at a restaurant or off the streets of KL. I am scared that I will never be enough for him, and that I will just be one of his disposables, to be put down on the wayside once he’s done. And worst of all, I am scared that, if that happens, I will just let him.

So she couldn’t forgive Dhani. Maybe it was self-righteous, and selfish of her. Maybe Dhani would end up hating her. She didn’t know.

She didn’t know anything right now.

She just kept on running.

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