This is so embarrassing, but no one knows me here, so I will just post it. Sigh, this will be so hard.
2008: I was, 17, starting my senior year of high school. I was ecstatic to enjoy my last year before starting a new chapter. I felt like a connection was missing. I didn't grow up around many Somalis, and I've always wanted to learn about my history, revel in the accomplishments of my people. So, I signed up for Somailnet.com. Worst. Mistake. Ever.
However, something good did come out of it. I met someone. Our first conversation had to do with the word 'Naaya.' We were arguing, but as I typed, I could feel a connection jolting through my fingertips. He was only 3 years older than me, yet so worldly. My initial thought was: I'm going to make sure he never forgets about me. I don't know how I summoned enough confidence to think that. I was an inhibited, 17-year old bookworm who's never been kissed.
2010: My life took an unexpected turn. I couldn't keep up with it all. Alas, I found solace in knowing he would still be on here. So, I came back after a 2 year hiatus. I was posting again. I guess he was lurking. Hey! How's my favorite American gal? I miss our exclusive book club. I pinched myself. Could this really be happening? He remembered? I can't find you on FB for the life of me. Here's mine, add me. So, I added him, relished in his 6 foot frame, chiseled jawline and rugged appeal. Every time I received a message, my heart would sink into the pit of my stomach reminiscent of a frightening roller coaster ride. I never quite got over my nerves. Every conversation felt like a continuum. Come to think of it, our conversations were always interrupted. Life happened. I totally understand. Then, one night, he decided to take it further...
Him: Hey, is it okay if I call you?
Me: Um, sure.
Him: It's ringing, pick up.
Me: Hello?
Him: (my username), it's you! Man!
Me: *His British accent is so strong* I didn't think you would still remember me. It's been so long.
Him: Nah, of course I would remember you. Your username just always stuck out. You weren't like the rest.
Me: Oh, *nervous chuckle*
Him: Your wide smile brings me to my knees, yo.
Me: *gasp*
Him: So...
11 months later:
Me: I have a dilemma.
Him: Tell me.
Me: I got locked out my house.
Him: Why?
Me: I came home at 10:30, and everyone was sleeping. So, I can't get in.
Him: Do you want to talk?
Me: Yes.
Him: Hello?
Me: Hey.
Him: So, tell me exactly what happened. I really don't think your mom locked you for coming home at 10:30. What did you really do?
Me: No, I swear, I haven't done anything else. I hate that my parents are so strict.
Him: Listen. I have 7 sisters. I gave my oldest sister away--didn't I tell you that story?
Me: Yeah, you did.
Him: I know you're not thinking of rebelling. It's too late now, and you know that.
Me: I'm not going to rebel.
Him: Listen, do you know why your parents are so strict?
Me: No.
Him: Because you're worth more than all of the gold, diamonds, everything of value. You are more valuable than all of that combined, and that's why you're so looked after.
Me: ...but I'm average.
Him: What? Average? Who told you were average?
Me: I feel average.
Him: No, you're not. You're smart, you obey your parents, you're a good girl.
Me: I guess...
****
There's something inherently different about having a connection with a Somali guy. He's not just a lover. He's a brother, confidant, relative. It's not as strange. He gets me. I don't have to defend the quirks.
Snet and Romance don't go together.
You and qabil 
