It is middle of September, exactly. I know that because it is our self assigned anniversary. after a well beloved song of a gay Italian singer who resides in UK, whose dog recently passed away. It is all related.
We met in Central Park, the one who recently witnessed a big implosion. This park is in my birth city not in NYC.
We call it that, because I have a friend who likens everything in our capital to world monuments, she calls her workplace, the wall street. big ambitions for people who cant breathe.
The air is polluted and we feel suffocated. It is 50 degrees but you get accosted for not wearing a scarf, you get beaten down for taking your dog on a walk. and you get killed for saying you’re thirsty. More so, for saying it in anything than Capital accent Farsi. Fascism seeps through the most private thoughts. Your private parts are public domain. Internet disrupts the massacare. it is the summer of 2021.
The love of my life has left me. Life has lost its meaning and I am just a girl who wants to be loved. I don’t remember being loved. I do not think I will ever be loved. Not in the true sense of the meaning. Like How I love.
I am going to try to leave. Let’s leave she says.
The days are bleak. the nights are lonely.
Pandemic hits. I don’t think I will ever be lonelier than this. Think again, life smirks.
I am up in the air for what it feels like days. It has been days. The first night the quarantine ends, I take a walk around my new life. Someone asks for the time. For the first time in my life, I feel like, I am HOME.
Miles away from where I was born, and the people who raised me. I never belonged. That hasn’t changed.
Ironic how you can speak ten languages and not be understood. Is it me or is the words? Maybe it is the people? I say love and I hear silence. I think love and I fall asleep. I nightmare they have taken me back. It is every night now. I never want to go back.
Have you ever thought about breathing? What if you mattered? Did somebody ever love you? Were you worthy? Did anyone laugh at your joke and called you funny? Did somebody hug you and told you that you are the world?
I never learned how to swim, not in the mud anyway. The first time I tried floating, someone took me to the bottom. I never tried again. I am one tiny fish in the pacific ocean. I am a leaf. I can only dream poems.
Three Hundred and sixty five days. I never wanted to be anyone else. I just wanted to be me. I love being free. Free to love. Even if in the multiverse, I am the only one who loves like me. When I am forgotten, It would be a legend. I would be the mystery.