Are we just pretending? Are we here to be good? She wrote and it’s dry, cool. In a way I wish she hadn’t written. Last time I saw her write like that I was alone here, and wished for a better future. I don’t know if that future came. I’m afraid I have lost the only person who really made me happy. I’m afraid I lost the person who I look up to the most. I miss her terribly. I want to live a life with her, but that is a lost dream now. I picture her in her new home, going about happily, buying fruits and vegetables and I think maybe, just maybe, she remembers me once in a while and it brings meaning to her. I miss you, A.

With long stretches of emptiness,
over the time and over the space,
I think back to where we were,
I long for your touch,
your kindness and playfulness,
your small feet and your tender kisses,
just putting my hand on your legs,
waiting for you at the airport,
eating a dinner with you,
being in the same space as you.

All these times have went by,
and I took you for granted,
let you think that I don’t care,
missed the times to thank you,
missed the moments to love you,
I was too holed up in myself,
I was afraid and sad,
that you’ll leave me,
that you won’t love me back.

I let you go now,
but I wish I hadn’t,
I wished for the dream,
that we created,
never to end.

A hundred days have passed since I landed in that foreign land to see you. It was a hard day. I was alone on that plane, alone and I didn’t know what will await me. You waited for me with a flower, you were there and you wanted to kiss me and I didn’t know how to react, but I kissed you. We waited for what seemed like forever in that taxi line and I felt dizzy. We then went for a walk, I took and sent pictures of paintings I shouldn’t have sent. And then you told me I’m just an extra, on top of your friends. I don’t know why I stayed with you after that. I really don’t. There was something about you. I think I realised how beautiful you are. After you hurt me, I realised how I still cared for you. I remember eating at the Mexican place. I remember looking at other women. And I remember asking you not to go running in the morning, because I wanted to be with you all night. I wanted the comfort to know that you are there for me, the full night. But you went. It sounds weird to say, but the moment I saw you leave the door to run, that was when something broke in me. Nothing should have broken there. I should have known that you love me. But something broke and I felt it. It made me incredibly sad, seeing you leave. I think I got detached then. I’m sorry. I should have been stronger. I should have known that you love me. But I was weak and tired and I was careless. I see that now. I wasted all those two weeks. I wasted them on my own sorrow. I planted it, I nurtured it, and I reaped its fruits. I miss you terribly. I miss you going out that door to run, to do what you like to do, being free and unrestricted by me, or by anyone. I miss being that extra in your life that made all the difference. I miss being with you.

Here I am, feeling great about winning some competition and I have nobody to share it with. As I see other people I remember how amazing it can be to have someone who understands us, who we can come back home to, who will put their hands around us and tells us it’ll all be good. With whom we can be together without being judged, without navigating the boundaries, without shame. I miss you A, I miss you and I love you.

And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat …”
[..]
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near–
“Ah,” said the fox, “I shall cry.”
“It is your own fault,” said the little prince. “I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . .”
“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.
“But now you are going to cry!” said the little prince.
“Yes, that is so,” said the fox.
“Then it has done you no good at all!”
“It has done me good,” said the fox, “because of the color of the wheat fields.”

I will always remember you through things that happen in the everyday: playfulness, kindness, and long intellectual conversations through articles and blogs. Although they happen every day, they will never happen again like they happened with you. They will forever stay a reminder of what we had, our times of joy and love. Thank you for giving them to me…

I’m sick, at home, my head is hurting and all I can think of is her. She has made this world, this life beautiful, amazing, a place to explore and to be loved. I miss her touch, I miss her smell. I miss those lazy mornings we had, having Shakshuka, running to work, waking up in all the different apartments she had. Going to parties, playing catch-me-if-you-can in the museum. Making tender love, seeing her cry. Asking her to stay so I can comfort her. Loving every bit of her, all the small things, all the big things. Her shoulder. Her feet. Her intellectual curiosity and strong stance on issues that affect us all. Her work to better this world. I miss her.

I realized, lately, that as I became depressed I became selfish. I didn’t write her, I didn’t tell her how much she mattered to me. I forgot to tell her how amazing and gentle her love is. How it is the most beautiful thing to experience. That her love gave me a will to live and explore this world. I tried giving her everything I had, but I was failing, I didn’t examine myself deep enough, I wasn’t capable of making the jumps. I was afraid, and for what? To fail? I have failed now. I’m so sorry to have lost her. I’m so sorry I lost you, A.

I’m now here, alone, with my headache and fever and I know that if she was living here, she’d come to me and make me happy once more. I would love to have that gift, her love, once more.

This is my verse. The longings, the pain, the love, the beauty of it all. Being able to write about it, explain it in no uncertain terms.

I never want to forget the time I had with you. I’m afraid I will be old and I will think back and dismiss what we had. I’m afraid I will forget the small details, your hair in my hand, touching your neck and ear on that first date, you giving me that chewing gum, Serra, being behind you on that train, jumping fences, creating art, going around in a car, getting a flower at the airport. I’m afraid I will get old and all this meaning, all these important, small details will be lost in time, forever forgotten like a drop in the sea. I’m afraid I will be old and I will loose all of this beauty and joy, I will loose what made me a better person. I will forget how you opened up life for me, made me realize there is so much to do here, so much joy and happiness and love to be had. That there is such a thing as being loved. That there is a reason to live.

I miss you. And I’m afraid. I never want to forget.

I saw your beautiful picture on LinkedIn and I realized the amazing professional work you have done and how I would talk about it proudly to others. I loved how serious you were about your work, how you were torn about when things didn’t go well, how you could explain to me all of it. I miss hearing about your work and your colleagues, your friends who were also doing amazing things. I loved how serious you could be when it came to work and how dedicated you were to the cause. I could listen for hours you talking about it. I miss those hours…

At work, somebody talked about buying gifts for her mother and I remembered how amazing it was to give gifts to you. You always made me feel good about them, always appreciated them. You were the best person to give gifts to. I miss giving you gifts. I miss that feeling of knowing that I have something to give to you but not revealing it. I miss seeing you being happy about them and telling me stories about how you used them or wore them. I miss making you happy.