Good morning,

I want to tell you that Im trying my best to be fine, Im trying to rebuild a life. Im trying to smile whenever you come across my mind, you see, Im smiling all day. No seriously, Im trying to move on, I will understand later, that is what I’m telling myself, lets move on and later we can pause and try to understand. The “what if”s are being silenced rudely, they will not help at all at this stage. I sleep, eat like a depressed elephant, if there is such a thing, and do some work. I watch the days passing, they pass quickly, and sometimes I catch myself stopping at specific dates for a while. Yes, I pause a lot on that day that we first met, somedays I call it my real birthday, my real-life day, and sometimes I call it my Ashoura, or at least my very own 9-11.

 

I am ok, I still listen to Fairouz, and I feel every sigh of all those in love. I wish people happiness, more than ever. Yesterday, I thought of those who chose to continue their lives in far away monasteries, I have always wondered about such drastic decision, how can someone leave everything, life with all its temptations, liveliness and familiar chaos to surrender to a life of nothingness, or to repeat one single day over and over and over till you leave this world. But yesterday I believed that I got the concept, it is the state of being satisfied by love, of being completed by love, of being lost in love. I will build my own monastery, I will hide in it, while moving on. I will go to work, attend meetings, respond to emails, I will call friends, I will go to dinners, I will pay bills and I will respond to funny comments on facebook, I will do everything while the real me will be in my own monastery of love.

In our every -now- and- then calls I tell you all the general things, for me they are super unimportant, but I don’t tell you that I miss you and that I miss telling you that I love you. I can’t tell you that I still believe that there is hope, and that time will be my ally at the end and we will be together. All of these words are hidden in my own monastery, hidden with thousands of your photos, I imagine you a dozen of times everyday, and I create photos of you. Maybe I will call you this afternoon to mention all the mundane details of my day, work, weather and migraine, you will speak with a minimum amount of enthusiasm about nothing in particular. I will make sure that we are both talking, the moments of silence scare me. I will make sure that we still have these phone calls every now and then.