Journey

10: Discomfort (J)

The soft glow of the lamp bathes my room in a warm ambiance, casting shadows that dance along the walls.

I sit at my desk, my phone in hand as I scroll through the pictures I've secretly taken of Omar. Each image captures a different moment, a glimpse into his life and the person he is.

There's one where he's smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine happiness. Another shows him deep in thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. And then there are the candid shots, the ones where he's unaware of the camera, lost in a moment of quiet reflection or laughter.

As I swipe through the pictures, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. There's something about Omar that draws me in, something beyond his charm and wit.

I pause on a particular photo, one where he's helping Hussaiba with her homework, a patient expression on his face as he explains a concept. It's moments like these that reveal the depth of his character, the warmth of his heart.

Despite the challenges he's faced, Omar remains resilient and compassionate. He's a friend unlike any other, someone I admire and respect deeply. And while I may keep my feelings hidden, there's a part of me that wonders what could be if I dared to take a chance.

With a sigh, I set my phone aside, the screen dimming as I lean back in my chair. The memories captured in those pictures linger in my mind, a reminder of the bond we share and the unspoken connection that continues to grow.

But then, the soft chime of my phone interrupts the quiet of my room, drawing my attention away from whatever I'm planning to do; it's a message from Hussaiba, sharing a funny meme she stumbled upon. I chuckle at the meme and reply with an equally amusing one before setting my phone aside.

"Dinner's ready, Jess!" my mother's voice calls from downstairs, a familiar and comforting sound.

I make my way downstairs, following the enticing aroma of my mother's cooking that fills the house. In the kitchen, I find her putting the finishing touches on a hearty meal, her smile warm and welcoming.

As I settle into my seat at the dining table, the warmth of home envelops me. The table is set with our usual dinnerware, and the delicious scent of the meal makes my stomach growl in anticipation.

"Smells amazing, Mom," I compliment, watching as she places a serving of food in front of me.

"Thank you, dear," she replies with a smile, taking her seat across from me. "How was your day?"

I take a moment to chew and swallow before responding, "It was good. School was the usual, but I did catch up with Hussaiba after school. She's always full of energy."

My mother nods, a knowing glint in her eyes. "She's a wonderful friend to you."

I nod in agreement, taking another bite of the delicious meal. As we chat about our day and share stories, I feel a sense of contentment and belonging. Despite the challenges and uncertainties of life, moments like these remind me of the love and support that surround me.

After dinner, I help with the dishes before retreating to my room. As I settle back into my cozy space, I can't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of family and friendship that make each day special.

As I sit on my bed, scrolling through the photos on my phone, one thing becomes abundantly clear: I have a lot of pictures of Omar. Some are candid shots taken during my study sessions with Hussaiba or group hangouts, while others are more intentional selfies we've taken together.

There's a photo of us at the beach last summer, both of us laughing as we attempt to build a sandcastle. Another one captures a moment at a birthday party where we're dancing goofily to an old song. And then there are the countless selfies where we're making silly faces or posing with peace signs.