Paulo Coelho wrote:
“There are two kinds of world: the one we dream about and the real one.”
In my dream world I am this confident and self assured woman who wants to get back out there and start working. Have some kind of a career, meet new people and challenges. And when I think about all this, about what I can still do, it makes me happy. I tell this to myself every time I get out of my house. Every time I step out the door and look around I see a beautiful world out there and I want very much to be part of it like I used to before.
I have these thoughts every morning while I drive my kids to the metro. I love the morning buzz, the continuous flow of traffic on the streets, people moving in a definite direction. Every move so calculated that after I drop my kids I always wish that I had some kind of discipline in my life. I wish I had somewhere definite to go, something specific to do. Come afternoon I realize the only thing I really like to do is to stay in my room and read and write.
Jodi Picoult writes:
“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”
I have become sort of a loner these past few months, ten months to be exact. Every time I try to get out there I feel disappointed and hurt. Monday the 16th marked the tenth anniversary of my husband’s death. And on that day I went to the Lebanese consulate to register his death. Something I had avoided doing for so long. And while there I noticed how the agent with a pen and ruler drew a line over his name. And I felt myself drowning. To use Jodi Picoult words:
“You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning, do you?”
It wasn’t long ago that my late husband and I had walked through those same doors to renew our passports and now a line across his name tells a different story. Why is it when a good thing comes along time flies so quickly and when tragedy hits us it seems to last forever? How do you become a new you when you have a hole in your heart so big that all you’re able to do, all you can do now is to cry your heart out and wait. Wait to see the light at the end of tunnel. Wait and wish and hope that somehow, someday things will be better. To quote Jodi Picoult:
“There’s always going to be bad stuff out there. But here’s the amazing thing — light trumps darkness, every time. You stick a candle into the dark, but you can’t stick the dark into the light.”