Letters to Majid

If I were desirable and beautiful and sexy and interesting, then why did you leave me?


Letters to Majid
by Nazy Kaviani

From the "Kissing All The Frogs Series"

The alarm went off as the feeble late autumn sun was breaking through the window, illuminating the room, telling her it was time to get up to go to work. She couldn’t. She had woken up from a dream at 4:00 a.m., unable to fall asleep again until 6:00 a.m. She forced herself out of her bed, but couldn’t get very far. She made herself a cup of tea and inched her way over to her computer, where she sent a note to her boss, telling him she wouldn’t be in today. The dreams had become a part of her life over the past few weeks. Each time they visited her, she was useless the next day for she would have spent most of the night recovering from them. Sipping her tea at her computer, she had an idea. What if she wrote him a letter and explained the dreams and her feelings to him? All of a sudden she felt a little burst of energy, desperately needing to write down that which haunted her and ached inside of her. She began typing slowly at first, gaining speed, as tears flew out of her eyes, blurring her vision.

Dear Majid:

I dreamt about you again last night. I dreamt you and I were riding in a car when you reached over and kissed me, like that first time. I can’t believe it now, but in my dream, I was surprised again like that first time. I responded and kissed you deeply. You were holding me in your arms so tightly, yet so tenderly. Your arms felt so safe and so good around me. I was full of longing for you and I knew you really wanted me, too. The dream was so vivid and so elaborate. You and I got out of that car in a parking lot and walked to our room, wherever it was. You were holding my hand we kept kissing each other, as if the time it took to take those steps toward our room would have been wasted without those kisses.

She wasn’t there again in my dream. It was just you and me, going places, talking, laughing, making sweet, sweet love. Every time I have this dream, she is never there. It was only in reality where her presence was felt all the time, though never in person.

When I met you, you had broken up for several months and I never knew the two of you as a couple. You said it had been a mutual decision, in the making for a year. How was I supposed to know how much you still loved her and that she was still ruling your heart and your life?

I learned, though. Do you remember the day we were playing hooky from work and I came over in the afternoon to hang out? Do you remember we were making love in your apartment and suddenly there was a loud thud from downstairs? Do you remember how you jumped to your feet in a state of panic? I was perplexed at your reaction to the noise which turned out to be the mailman dropping a heavy package in the mailbox. By now I know you thought it was her. You never did get your keys back, did you?

I heard from others about her shortcomings, never from you. You always talked about her as if she had no faults. You even blamed yourself for everything that had gone wrong. I consider that the ultimate sacrifice for someone you love, allowing nothing to tarnish her image, not even the truth.

She was everywhere and it was scary and exhausting taking her along. I heard she is living with another man and you must have, too, and none of that ever made a difference. She still came along. I had to compete with and lose to someone whom you had truly loved and had not begun to un-love. Well, I lost. I couldn’t compete. I couldn’t prove. I didn’t have a chance.

Both of you are gone now. I dream of you and I still miss you. But I don’t miss her. I’m glad she is gone and is out of my life. If loving you and having you in my life also meant having her around, I’m glad you are gone, too, even though I still love you. I don’t know how much longer I will dream of you. I don’t mind the dreams, they make me happy in a sad way, for there in the heart of those dreams is a man I love, unencumbered by the reality that he never could love anyone else.


* * * * * * * * * *

Her hair was disheveled and her clothes looked tired and wrinkled on her as she let herself into her apartment. She was no longer tipsy and she had lost all her earlier cheer and bravado. She left her briefcase and purse at the entrance and went directly into the bathroom, where she took off her clothes and dropped them into a heap on the floor. She pushed herself into the tub and under running hot water, the quickly building fog in the small room obliterating everything but her soul which was raw, sad, and empty. Sobs which had been building inside her finally had a chance to rise to her throat and she let them go to try cleansing her soul to no good result.

Dear Majid:

I went out with that guy again last night. I told you about him in one of my letters. Of course, since the letters are never sent, you wouldn’t know it where you are right now, but if I had sent them, you would know about the guy I have been seeing and you would know that he is a nice man, a professional photographer, and a very articulate man, just as I like men! He is tall and good-looking and he still has all his hair! I told you he had been saying how much he liked me every time we got together and how when goodbye time came, each time he would make a small gesture, like hold on to my hand a few seconds longer than expected, or would stand closer to me than he should, or look at me with a question in his eyes, signaling his wish for me to let him be more intimate. Each time I would end the meeting with some nonchalant words and go straight home, taking a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to face the possibility of intimacy and sex with him. I don’t know, somehow I just wasn’t ready to become intimate with anyone else after you.

You remember my friend Homayra, right? She has been telling me to move on after you, so when this guy came along, her advice to me was “It takes one to forget one,” meaning that in order to get over a lost man, another man must be found to take his place. That is why I have been dating again, I guess, but somehow every date has felt so empty, so void of joy and excitement, so sad, even while we are talking and laughing.

Last night I went to see him. We were going to see each other at a restaurant, but he called at 4:00 to say that he had gone home early and was proposing we got together at his place, so he could cook for me. You know better than anyone else that I’m not naive, Majid. I knew what he was thinking and proposing, and after three months of seeing him, and remembering Homayra’s advice, I thought why not? Maybe if I let us get more intimate, I would develop deeper feelings about the relationship and become able to reciprocate his warmth and affection. Without further contemplation I agreed and went to his house after work. He had made a perfect dinner, and had dimmed the lights and lit candles everywhere. I felt really tense and unprepared all of a sudden, deciding to myself that I would not sleep with him.

We drank wine and ate food and drank some more wine. I was tipsy and as you know so well, I came a little more alive, a little more daring, and a little more compulsive. When we took the plates into the kitchen and I turned to put mine in the sink, I felt him right behind me, reaching my waist and resting his hands there without a word. I stood there for a moment. It would be so convenient for me to tell you that I was too drunk to know what was happening, but you know I would never lie to you. Part of me wanted to run and would you believe it, “save” myself for you?!! I mean how ridiculous and pathetic is that? You left me five months ago and we haven’t been in touch, and here I wanted to save myself for you? I am so pathetic. Another part of me so wanted to know that I am desirable, that even if you didn’t want me, another man would and as things are right at this moment, he wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t want to, for he is smitten with me. He thinks I’m beautiful and sexy. He thinks I’m smart and funny and sweet. He wants to see me and go places with me. I know if you were here, you would tell me, “but you are beautiful and sexy and interesting.” And I would say to you, “if I were desirable and beautiful and sexy and interesting, then why did you leave me?”

So I pushed my back into his chest and let him know that it was OK for him to hold me like that. We made love on the carpet by the fireplace. The wine had numbed me and I was really relaxed and quiet, not how I was with you, when just your touch made me go crazy. Would it hurt your feelings to know that he was very very good in bed? A kind and giving and patient lover, sweet and generous? All the while he was looking at me, Majid, with kind eyes, unable to cover up his happiness at the fact that we were together. He said the sweetest things and did all the things which made it perfect to have sex with him. I could see his face in the glow from the fireplace, he was searching my eyes but even in the state that I was, I couldn’t connect with those eyes and I couldn’t reciprocate those looks. I made all the right physical moves, but there was a hollowness in the pit of my stomach as the climax was building up in me. Even when I came, even when he came. My elbows and knees hurt from the carpet burn, and I was feeling cold, even though he had wrapped his arms around me and his large frame had more or less covered me.

I picked up my clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom. As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I let them go, the tears that had been lurking in the back of my eyes and my throat. I felt so helpless, not wanting him to know that I was in the bathroom crying. I flushed the toilette and let the faucet run. I stood there and waited for my eyes to dry up again before I left the bathroom, dressed with my feeble attempt at freshening up.

He was so sweet. He made me some coffee, and let me smoke inside the house as it was too cold outside. He brought me a small throw and put it around me as we sat on the couch and talked some more, sounding somehow closer because of our intimacy, but more subdued all of a sudden also because of it.

He walked me to my car, holding me in his arms and kissing my hair and my face and my hands. I got in the car and he called twice while I was still on the freeway to check my whereabouts and safe arrival. I called him just as I pulled into the garage and he asked if I could call him again when I was ready for bed and I said I was heading straight for bed, so I’d talk to him tomorrow.

Standing under the shower, wishing the water to wash and take away my sorrow, sobbing bitterly, I had to come face to face with the ugly and unforgivable reality of what had happened tonight. I had taken you to dinner with another man, Majid, and all the while, as he and I made love, you were there, too, and all I had wanted was for him to leave and to let me be with you. I am a monster just like you.



* Names, places, and other identifying attributes of this series' characters are made-up and a work of fiction. The relationship and the dilemma at the heart of each story is true and that's all that is true.

Part [1], Part [2], Part [3], Part [4], Part [5], Part [6], Part [7], Part [8], Part [9], Part [10]

Visit: nazykaviani.blogspot.com


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Monster? Really??

by Princess on

Nazy jaan,

I have been a silent admirer of your writings (both poems and prose) for a while now. This story, however, touched me very deeply and in a personal way, because as I was reading the story I kept recognising myself in Marjan’s sentiments and desperation, all the way to the ending, including her conclusion. 

It is one thing, however, to silently wonder if one is in deed a monster, but it is an entirely different thing to read it at the end of such a touching story. A monster? Really?

I mean it is clear, as you have so eloquently and skilfully painted the picture, that Marjan is not having a good time, and she probably wants to start feeling normal and whole again. So how is it monstrous if after a period of “mourning”, she agrees to go on a date with a man who COULD have potential, and even ends up sleeping with him in the hope that she might fall in love again? 

Love is a gamble, and it is seldom in our control whom we fall in love with. So I am wondering if Marjan’s conduct in this story is rather fair in the sense that she can now at least say that she tried to give this man a chance, instead of dismissing him off-hand. After all it’s the guy who has been pursuing her, not the other way round.

To be honest this is more a question that I would like to put out here, especially to the male readers. If a man knows that a woman is single but her heart is with someone else. Knowing what he knows if he really likes this woman, would he rather she not agree to go on dates or sleep with him?

You see, think men think that they can still win a woman’s heart if they are given a chance – and maybe sometimes they do – so they still insist, despite all the warning signs. Isn’t it more respectful to at least give them a chance before saying, no you are not the one, especially if one thinks that there MIGHT be some potential, which is what I understood from this story?

I am not sure if “monster” is the right word, although I have occasionally used it on myself, feeling guilty.

Thank you again for your writing and looking forward to your next piece.



Much ado about nothing

by Bag or no Bag, Me no Comprehende (not verified) on

Ajab: Nice to see you again.

The best teacher of all is the 'bloodied nose'. Life teaches the same lesson over and over again if we refuse to learn. Each fall becomes harsher and harsher until we start to lose our home, our kids our life, our body parts - literally. So, best to learn from each fall and 'graduate'.

It is one thing to be a teen pining over the BF who still has 'feelings' for his ex-GF yet, completely another to be a woman in her ripe years, who, while in the arms of a 'sweet lover' pines to be held by a two-timing bastard who probably screamed his first wife's name when he climaxed. Masochism - the hallmark of the fallen Madonna. Save us please. Let's all grow up - shall we. Take off the shackles of false chastity and 'borrowed' dignity. Marjan is not a monster. She is a fake.

Since I don't keep Iranian company as much, I find it intriguing that specimen such as Nazy describes truly exist in flesh and blood and are walking planet earth AND have made it into their 30s, 40s and maybe even 50s unscathed. How can life pass anyone by? Even princesses wake up to become Queens eventually. Na Agha - these are fictitious characters - masks in a masquerade. Mental virgin-wannabes despite what's been going on down below.

Een khordane zardaloo - pass dadan dareh haloo.

I am aghast at the cruelty of it - the immaturity, the lack of consideration for self and all the people around this character - Marjan. Women like these hog the good guys; piss on them, use them and the 'real ones' are left mopping the mess.

Mr. Ajab: You ask if I have a solution. The solution for the Iranian man looking for a relationship apparently is to either go to Iran and bring over a 'simple' Golshifteh (sans drama) - or look among non-Iranian community for a real woman who acts her age. Latinas are real - as are latinos! Good Iranian women are aplenty - however what they are most definitely NOT interested in is to mop up the messes the Marjans have left behind. Life is too short.

As for solution for women such as Marjan I have none sir other than introspection. It is never too late to face oneself in the mirror. Perhaps I would start by buying each one of the characters a mirror and have them explore their faces. Then they need to write down their stories in itsy bitsy gory details and read it and read it and read it until they see the pattern emerging from what they have done to men and what men have done to them. There is always a pattern and if they look closely, just maybe they will be able to see the similarity to their homelife in Iran. Was Mommy arm-candy? Did Daddy have a sugar on the side? Did a new piece of furniture mysteriously arrive every time Mommy and Daddy's bedroom door was closed and Daddy was screaming like a banshee? Was the gardener in the bedroom more often than in the backyard? Who said what to whom and why? And how did all of these characters act? Did they say one thing and do another? Did they tell little Marjan to save aberoo despite plates and pictures being thrown across the living room? Did they give her the confidence to have self respect; or did Mommy tell her to snag the husband and do the dirty on the side? And how did little Marjan take it all in - weaving into the fantasy world each little girl has of the prince awaiting her debut into adult life?

So, ladies, by all means share with the audience here the good bits of the written story of the life. If there is little comfort and plenty of pain, then head over to the therapist with the sole purpose of having the map of your past deciphered and in doing find your peace. The answer is within you- seek and you shall find.

Mr. Ajab: I am not a guru and neither are you. I don't claim to have the market cornered on knowing men or women. I am a 46 year old who made some very wise and some very unwise choices in men, women and life and now enjoy quite a tapestry of experiences which I intend to share with my kids and eventually my grandkids.

I have lived life knowing that it wasn't a rehearsal and most definitely a one way street. The freshness of youth may be gone in us oldies but if we refuse to welcome the wisdom of age - we will be left by not one but many Majids despite being told by them that we are desirable and beautiful and sexy. The middle years welcomes better use of the errogenous zone which resides solely in between our ears. So we need to act our age and reap the benefits.



A word about True love.

by KouroshS (not verified) on

We can slice and dice this story and its characters anyway we want to, but one thing stands out for me, is that those who object to the way nazy has created and shaped her characters, are experiencing their own conflicts trying to define what is real and true love and what has roots in self-pity and low self-steem.
You are living in a Big, and unreachable dream if you think true love is not associated with pain and is all that good and beautiful stuff that brings with itor rather is supposed to, especially when it come to loving another humanbeing. It does take a bit of work.
Perfect and True love is nearly Unattainable, in a realistic sense, and to expect that true love to be only given when both men and women are emotionally healty enough or know their boundaries,Literally means you will never have the chance, at least on this earth and in this life, to find it.
So basically, take what you can reasonably and decently call a meaningful and mutually respectful relationship on its way to becoming a loving relationship and make the best of it and enjoy as long as it shall last.
I find it so dissapointing when some ladies, always dream and speak of true love and the love that brings happiness, Yet find things more believable when they see the exact opposite, namely a short and brief physical encounter in the middle of the night.

I am of the mindset that there is no such thing as "i t takes one to forget one", yeah, i am the traduitional kind or whatever, and i do think some pain is necessary while loving (it comes with the territory) But if you want to do it, do it with dignity. After all, the pain lasts only as long as we like to hold on to our feelings and finding someone or not would not make much of a difference.

I think what marjan did here, was rather logical, than having had some revenge sex and a one night stand with a fellow. I don't mean to adhere to the most hard-core and strict principle of "no sex before marriage" of our culture, but it stand to reason that knowing someone for at least a few weeks or even months, becoming familiar with him and getting to know him, is more of a legitimate reason to engage in such activity, rather than a revengful quicikie!.


Bag or no bag, you are spot

by Ajab Rajab (not verified) on

Bag or no bag, you are spot on. I agreed before that these are teen drama in middle-aged bodies stuck in the 70s melodrama.

But I've seen these ladies with my own eyes! These are real people and their problems are real; to them. They do suffer from low self-esteem and when Nazy tries to sugar coat them they sometimes come out being like cotton candy!

In reality I think this is a good forum and good series to find out how we can shake sense into these ladies and warn them of the life that is passing them by.

Do they not have the right wanting to experience these things if they have not experienced it in their teens?

If they want to go to clubs every Friday and Saturday night, dragging their middle aged American raised boyfriends with themselves, and later complain about men not wanting to do anything exciting, what are we supposed to say? Do we summarily judge and dismiss them or do we have any solutions to offer?



by barefoot on

Nazy jan, this is so goooood.



by Souri on

Those are true stories, mind you ? I have heard them many times from my own friends and every body else heard them from their own friends too, as their comments prove here. Where did you get this idea of " superficial and lack depth" then relating to her as " lacking experience"? I find your words very offensive, at least lacking depth and consistency.



Bag or no bag: I couldn't

by weekender (not verified) on

Bag or no bag: I couldn't have said it better myself. She is a fantastic writer but her character developments needs a lot of work. Most of her protaganists are superficial and lack depth, perhaps because the author herself lacks experience in this area, therefore, can't be insightful.


Fact or Fiction - Truth or Dare

by Bag or No Bag - Me no Understand (not verified) on

Nazy Khanoum;
With all due respect for your excellent writing; I am inclined to believe that either your friends are not telling you the whole truth about their encounters or you are taking writer's liberty and leaping into fantasy with your characters. Having said that - I must say this is a charming complex tale - particularly pleasurable to those of us who crave to associate pain with love.

True love is not painful. True love sets everyone free; the lover, the beloved, the one who stays, the one who leaves. True love delights. True love is the dance of the soul. True love can only be given and received by men and women who have healthy self-esteem and clear boundaries. True love will occur within intimacy which is way beyond sex though sex is part of it.

Your characters my dear lady have no self-esteem, have zero emotional availability and they lie. True love cannot exist anywhere but in truth.

What you have here, I venture to guess, is a bunch of frustrated Iranicans - socially displaced, devoid of true community anchors, and no guiding light other than bare bones morality jargon of the 70's Iran. So, they fumble in the dark - they fall in love with separated men who use them and lose them , they reject perfect men, use them and lose them and - they call in sick over a break up. What you have here is teen drama in middle-age bodies.

I would have found the story more believable if Marjan engaged in anonymous sex to drown out Majid's thoughts - you know a 'revenge fxxx' or if the guy she ends up dating for three months before bedding him is ugly or doesn't have a job or is a closet gay or married already. Do women really land gorgeous men on the rebound who can cook, clean, smell great, make them come, make them coffee, call them and care for them and NOT know that they are being used? I want one of those - please (to go) :)

As for the mirrors analogy as Marjan thinks of herself in the relationship with Majid she will have seen a girl that was not good enough to be cherished; settling for the crumbs of a relationship. And as for the image she sees with the 'perfect man' - well, she does not feel she deserves him and most probably doesn't deserve the 5-layer cake she has been lucky to land. Afterall, since when has it been proper etiquette to boink and run? Sex without cuddles afterwards? How uncouth. Tears in the bathroom? Over what? Because she was treated like a lady? Get real.

I am beginning to think the second guy is a bigger loser than Majid. What sort of self-aware, self-respecting man allows this sort of princess to piss all over him and still wants to know she is OK getting home.

Oy Vey!!!

More later - now I have to work. :)

Zan Amrikai

Nazy, thank you

by Zan Amrikai on

All too true.  I think the ending was lovely.  Sad, obviously--no kidding--but lovely.  Real life is so much messier than so many of us want to admit.  There comes a time in life when you finally throw off all the external admonitions of, "Good girls don't (fill in the blank)!"  and you start to give yourself permission to live your own life--as damnable by others as it may be.  Obviously no one is walking around saying, "Sleeping with just anyone is the best way to live..." but geez, Marjan is no little girl who shouldn't be able to have sex.  Cultural pretense to the contrary, plenty of Iranians--and Americans, and Canadians, and Fins, and English, and Somalians, and--you get the picture--have SEX without the benefit (?) of marriage or even of a serious relationship.  That's LIFE. 

However, it is true that for women, sexual connection very often equals emotional investment--not always, as you see by the second relationship in this vignette--but for men, it often does not equal emotional investment.  For men, sex can be just that: sex.  For women, it takes a lot of dealing with the condeming voices in her head (parents, society, religion, other women, men...blah blah blah) to give herself permission to have sex with someone without marriage as the object.  Some would say that "liberation" is being a slut; I disagree.  But then, I was a teenager in the 1970s so I have had a lot of cultural reason(s) for my thinking to have changed (evolved? degenerated?  It's all in the way you look at it.).

Keep telling the stories, Nazy.  I could add a few of my own and those of others I've known.  We all could, no doubt.



By the way, not that Nazy's

by Ajab Rajab (not verified) on

By the way, not that Nazy's writing doesn't deserve kudos, she does and she writes very well. But sometimes I get the feeling like I'm watching Zoolander!

You know the scenes where Ben Stiller dares Owen Wilson to a runway walk-off?! This sometimes feels that way where we may be challenging Nazy to a write-off! Let's have that Nazy, I challenge you to a write-off! shall we?!


I think it is ok to sulk and

by Ajab Rajab (not verified) on

I think it is ok to sulk and become a basket case after your first real breakup, 2 at most. You can learn from it and move on and know how to treat your next relationship and fare better if it fails.

But in many cases I see this drama unfold over and over again. It is as if the woman is putting up a show about how "devasted" she is! As if being "devasted" makes a difference for the guy who has left her or gives him a guilty feeling.

Na joonam if you sulk more or stay in bed more or feel "devasted" longer they won't give you a prize! Learn to live as an individual and not dependent on others.

There is one thing to be emotionally attached and enjoy a relationship and another thing to be emotionally "withdrawn" and given up on everything else. It is not a show it is your life!



by cyclicforward on

Excellent work. You should write for Newyorker magazine. You really take the reader with you.

Nazy Kaviani

Dear Friends

by Nazy Kaviani on

I don't know which one is more rewarding--getting my friends' stories written down, or hearing your range of thoughtful reactions to them. It's all been a remarkable experience for me.

I had to combine two separate pieces of the series here, inspired by No Handbag's notion that what we see in another might very well be a mirror image of ourselves. The truth is that Majid had met Marjan on the rebound from his own relationship. Though he had never heard Homayra's advice, he had taken it! He was taking one to forget one. This had had a devastating effect on Marjan, who "couldn't compete and couldn't prove." Homayra's advice didn't work for neither Majid, nor Marjan. Marjan did to the new man in her life, exactly as Majid had done to her and now this guy couldn't compete and couldn't prove. I know it was a sad story, all of them are, and this is depressing me! Gloom and doom, doom and gloom! Baba, what did I ask in that very first episode?

"And, after all, how hard can it be to find someone? Most of us are looking for only one person in our lives, no more. If you think about it, there are more or less the same number of men as there are women in this world, give or take a few (million!). Doesn’t it seem mathematically possible for every man or woman to be able to find a mate and to live together happily ever after? Then why is so hard? Why is it so complicated?"

I don't like it when my characters do all kinds of bad stuff to each other and at the end of it all, feel crummy, too!  Why can't they just feel great after breaking someone else's heart and kicking them out of their lives?  That way, at least, ONE of them would be happy!  Sheesh. 

Back to the mirror thing, I think that without talking on Majid's behalf or about his feelings, just by taking the mirror analogy one step further, it's not hard to see a man who picked up a girlfriend along the way to get over his pain and emptiness, and feeling scared and overwhelmed with her love which far exceeded his investment in the relationship, he broke things off and ran away, sitting somewhere feeling really sorry and guilty about all this.  Yikes!  Big mess! 

Souri Jan, your comment touched me.  Thank you. 

Feshangi Jan, you always humble me with your compliments and your sensitivity.

IRANdokht, you are hillarious!  Loved the "memo" notion!  This comment is getting too long.  At some point I will come back and tell you about the affairs I have seen between perfectly beautiful young single women and married men at work.  I will tell you what those guys told those women to start the affair.  They could be funny stories if they weren't so sad.

Come and rejoin the discussion whenever you can.  Thank you all.


Nazy jan

by Souri on

Your story is so romantic and beautifully sad , that I send it to my friends (with your permission)

Personally, i don't approve this way of trying to forget someone by sleeping with others. As Marjan truly speaks for, it won't change anything or diminish the sadness.

But when I discuss it with my friends, especially two of them, they say that when a deep & important relationship ends like this, you need the support and affection of someone. They say it is like you feel a hole in your life and you can't fill it just by thinking or dreaming about the one you had lost. It is then, that they go after an intimate and physical relation which prove them, that they are still loved.

I don't know how it feels. Betrayed or betraying the other ? I haven't been trough this, but most of the time, they say they get some kind of release following by the sense of regret right after and feeling the hole again.

All in all, I loved your story. It was very touching. 

You are a very great novel writer :D)


Nazy jaan

by Feshangi on

I loved your story.

I had never been inside the head of a woman in love before and you managed to take me there. I feel very sad for Marjan.  




This kind of sufferings are

by Arash78 (not verified) on

This kind of sufferings are direct results of a generation that has become void of values and identity. A confused generation that has lost touch with its own roots and is now seeking advice and learns from TV series such as "Sex and the city" and other such junks.

Since when it was OK in our culture to date and sleep with a man to forget an other?!!

American Wife


by American Wife on

Yes, women can mourn much much longer.

The comment about "separation" was hilarious (unfortunately very true, but hilarious).


This story was great. I

by IRANdokht on

This story was great. I loved reading it, it didn't matter how long it took, I was devouring every word.

The ending was a big surprise. I didn't expect Marjan to make that conclusion... it probably wasn't the same thing with him though. I doubt he felt so many emotions when he was with her or with his wife.

One thing I learned a long time ago is that if a man is claiming to be "separated", most likely his wife has not received the memo yet.

One thing is really bothering me now: are women really that romantic? I don't recall having mourned any relationship for 5 months...

great story!



You will never know how deeply

by numb (not verified) on

your story has touched me. I really can't even express the words.

ebi amirhosseini


by ebi amirhosseini on

Nazy jaan,I have to read it again !.until then: