My phone rings, It is a text message. The sender: my aunty, replying to my message sent about an hour ago in which I asked about the family.
In the message: “Hi Zahra, we are all good. You have a new cousin. Your aunt had a baby a month ago. Take care”.
Another cousin came to the world. Unbelievable! I realized that I don’t know the last three ones who were born and the three other ones before these three ones can hardly recognize me today, same for me by the way.
They have grown for sure since that year of that century in which we met for the last time.
Zakaria, in few months, or years, when he will start understanding the world around him, his mom will show him an album, that wasn’t updated since 19XX. She will tell him about a cousin called Zahra, the eldest one in all the family, who “used to be” a brilliant student. She lives so far, and probably has long hair, today.
A memory on a paper or a photo for some people, an imaginary person for others, and may be worse than that for my own person, that’s my reality and one more time, this is just how life decided to go.
I don’t want anyone to feel sorry, since stories similar to this one are becoming so usual for me.
However, I want each one of us to promise what he can keep. My promise to you doesn’t have a name, a title, a limit, or context.
It isn’t because I don’t know what you mean to me, I do strongly know where you stand in my heart.
But love isn’t what I feel toward you. Just because love is what those people said they hold for me and it wasn’t enough to draw my smile, the way I fought to draw yours.
Love has an expiry date and for all those who “loved” me, this date already passed, but you are still remaining in the same corner, and yet you will keep doing so.
So dear, when days will go on, and this album that won’t be updated for years since this 20XX is pulled to talk randomly about me, when I become a memory on a photo or an imaginary one for all people around me, remember to remember me they I remember you.