I love the waves of the sea. Her grace, as the water moves into a tight embrace of the sandy carpet under my feet. I have not seen such a scene for over a year now. Sometimes I ponder how it is like there. On the shores of Morocco, only one sea apart. One whole world apart. There are some things in this world that transcend culture and history and God himself. Like the sounds of a song that prompt tears in my eyes or the words in a story that speak to me like prophecy from a future self. There are these concepts whose existence I deny. Like a tight knot of stubborn worries that won't let my heart be at ease.
I remember the first days of seeing you, almost like an alien memory. I was writing to you like I do now. But it was not you yet, it was a virtual marionette dancing and talking through the strings of your elegant fingers. This is not a memory I wish to only keep, but a memory I wish to treasure. For what is treasure if not the things we carry until the end. You and I believe in different ends. But it does not matter. As long as I get to see and to experience the unraveling of your existence.