On the eve of my birthday, my dad came into my room while i was sleeping to attack me over my brother's cell phone. My parents are so damn materialistic - they said taking it meant i had no respect for my brother, im deceptive, i lie and i steal, i'm the 'wolf in sheep's clothing.'

Hah. As for my brother - he's 11, the same age i was when i started maturing, developing, getting odd attention from people up to seven years older than me, and the same age i started drinking. But adam's in his own little world - he spends most of his time insulting, bullying, hitting, hair-pulling, and overall attacking me. Happens right in front of my damn parent's faces and they never do anything about it, they never tell him to apologize, never tell him its wrong - but they get into action when i retaliate. He knows they're on his side no matter what, and so, he does what he likes with me. As long as he doesnt take my cell, use the credit when he's in the middle of an emotional crisis that has him between slitting his wrists and going on a drinking binge and needs to talk to the one person who calms him, he's never asked to apologize, never has his birthday wrecked.

In the morning, i avoided everybody. I showered, went downstairs, and i wasn't surprised to find that there were no birthday cards or wrapped presents for me, no cake, nobody telling me "happy seventeenth birthday, lets go out to dinner tonight."

When i took the laptop up to my room though, my dad resentfully handed me a card and a small plastic bag, telling me "it's small but expensive, ok?" as i walked off. It turned out to be a card and a coin-sized ipod shuffle. At least it was something.

I'd made plans with wessam to go out to a cocktail bar or a pub and get all dressed up - do something special and different. The day before, he'd given me my birthday present - a pair of classic converse shoes that, to my surprise, he'd saved up for. It made me uncomfortable because i was filled with so much gratitude and surprise - he never had any money with him, and it was always me buying him things and paying for everything. I almost teared up when he knelt before me on the chair and put them on for me. Skander used to give me things and i used to give him things right back, but it was always very easy for him to do these things. He'd never had to save up.

As for all the other friends,  what i got from them on my birthday was a loud, drunken birthday party in my room and some appreciation - never any gifts. I'd spent such a long time feeling like the center of nothing that a pair of converse was enough to make me jump on him and cover him in kisses. He told me to take them with me and wear them on the big day.

The day wasnt all that big though. I always get 50 sterling pounds from my relatives on my birthday - 30 from my uncle and 20 from my granny. I should be getting something from my bestselling author of an auntie ( my dad's sister Linda Davies wrote some great financial thrillers, and wound up marrying a millionaire) since i used to take care of her kids and slaved away last spring, carving, sanding, and polishing a dark wood, butterfly-shaped mirror for her 3 year old daughter. But it's fine - i'm almost never in contact with her anyways.

My parents never gave me the birthday cards from my uncle and granny, claiming that they must have forgotten, but it'd be the first birthday in nine years that he's ever forgotten. In the end my plans were shot to hell and i had to argue with my mom to get my usual allowance, so i at least wouldnt have to spend my day in the streets.

And when i met up with wessam, my plan was to spend time in a cafe, or go to the studio, share a bottle of sweet wine with sherif, and then go off to a cafe for the rest of the night.

Instead, we went to the studio and never left. I'd asked him several times if we could go, and each time he refused, saying i should save my money instead. We wound up jamming the entire time, and wessam wound up leaving at nine, even though i'd expected him to take at least one day to leave a little later than usual. The only people i heard 'happy birthday' from were sherif and wessam. My stupid brother adam didnt even realize it was my birthday - but for the past 8 or 9 year's i'd always saved up money, gone out and bought him something to surprise him on his day.

The one comfort i had was in going home, heavily disappointed, and discovering when i went online that 20 people from all over the world had remembered, some of them old friends that i hadn't contacted in over a year.

Wessam had continued to inform me of his parents blatant dissaproval over the way i look today. In the end, i got fed up of hearing him say it with a big smile on his face, as if he was enjoying the fact that somebody thought i was hideously ugly and very difficult to look at. It's never nice to hear negative, very insulting things about yourself, and it had been going on since i met his mother and spent the day at his house with them. So on the 28th i  cracked, told him i didnt give a shit, told him his parents need to grow the fuck up and find something better to do than sit around shit talking me,  told him that the situation with his cousin's failed attempts at marrying the women he loved was the most ridiculous thing i'd ever heard from people who thought so highly of themselves, and told him that it's more than pathetic.

He used to tell me "It's just their opinion," or "you're the woman i'm almost officially engaged to, they wanna make sure you're good enough," or "that's what they think - everyone has a right to think what they want to."

But after i'd broken the silence and had a frank, very frustrating rant about how pointless and arrogant and pathetic it is to judge someone in a way that's this racist and this high-horsed and this goddamn stupid, he had nothing left to say. He couldn't deny it anymore.

He didnt come over today either, even though we were supposed to have a good day out to make up for yesterday's fail. But i guess it doesnt matter enough. -_- he told me that if he came early we could go to this good burger restaurant - the same one i wanted to go to last night while we wound up just playing music, as always. Seemed as though he didnt mind spending the last of my allowance on good food.

But then another excuse came up for not coming - he doesnt have the car and he doesnt have money. I had enough money for him to come over with public transport, but it didn't matter - then he went on to say "you'd spend ten for me to come and ten for me to go back and you'd wind up with 40 - you should save your money or you'll be broke for the rest of the week."

Sure, he's telling me to save my money now - after suggesting we go to burger joint earlier and spend all the cash on eating. Not only that, but he never needed the car to come and see me - not until it was repaired and returned to him a couple weeks ago, that is.

These things dont add up - it just seems like he doesnt care. Terminal disappointment. Perhaps i'm just asking for too much - i cant expect him to spend as much time with me as we always have, and as i've grown to expect - he has his own life. And when we are together, i cant expect him to spend the whole time sitting with me all night at our favorite cafe and talking instead of going to the studio, even though we've spent the past year doing it, completely satisfied and very happy. He has his own life, and if he's not satisfied with talking anymore, why should i force him?

Nowdays, its all about the studio. He'll use it as an excuse to leave the cafe early - "sherif called me and asked to jam, so we have to go," or "i told him i'd play music today, so we have to go," or, simply, "i wana go somewhere we can hug and kiss without people bothering us." As if we ever do hug and kiss when we're there. He usually blabs in arabic to the people around and starts loudly playing the drums, completely disregarding the fact that if he plays that loud, my singing won't be heard.

Even his friend mido, the one that ran away when the police found his secret stick of hash in wessam's car, cared enough to stop everybody and turn down the volume so i could be heard, every time it seemed i was singing into space.

Seems as though the studio always has to come first nowdays. It's always like that - even on my birthday we spent the whole fucking day there. I remember when i first started the work on my teeth, and had four deep fillings in my mouth at the same time. Wessam had gone to the studio to hang out while i was having it done, and came to meet me when i was finished. It was pretty obvious that i didnt feel well and had a headache, and i told him i wasnt in the mood for loud noise - but he continued insisting on going to the studio just so we could sit and talk. I knew we wouldn't be sitting and talking. I knew we'd be jamming, and the noise would irritate me so much i'd spend the night sitting outside in the garden, smoking cigarettes by myself while he played downstairs.

"I told sherif i'd come and take you with me and start playing music again - he'll be pissed," was his excuse. And we can't disappoint sherif, can we?

In the end i told him i'd go home - just go to the studio and do your thing. Then, he told me i dont understand him and dont know him, the point of being here is being together. He brought it up so many times that in the end i said "please just go and do your thing, we're wasting time sitting here arguing about it."

Then, he told me it was already too late. We spent half an hour basically sitting in silence in the square next to my old school.

 I have a tendency to pull back from people and give them space almost automatically when i start to feel like they dont care as much as they used to. That's what i've been doing for basically the whole month now and i dont expect it to change anytime soon. It'll be easier once i start school again, meet new people, make friends - then if he insists on going to the studio, i wont have to stick around.

I love him with everything i have and everything i am - so it gets pretty depressing, considering that right now, without parents that care and with all of my closest friends scattered around the globe, only accessible through the internet, wessam is almost all that i have. I'm disgusted by the sound of my own pathetic desperation, and that's why i've decided to hold back, keep the feelings inside, expect almost nothing so that i dont have to be disappointed all the time. Maybe that's why i almost teared up over a pair of converse sneakers. It was ten times more than what i'd expected - it was overwhelming, almost.

Ugh. I hate myself. I'm here on my blog complaining about something that's so small and so trivial it shouldn't even matter.