Between the three of us (a small and vivacious Indian, a tall and beautiful German, and me), attempts to fix this problem have involved fiddling with the various gas tanks in the back of the building and calling out through the window of our fourth floor apartment to each other to check if the stove is turning on--cries of "it's still not working. Are you sure you know which is ours???" mixing with loud meows from the massive feral cat population of Haifa and music from the perpetual Arab weddings that seem to always be going on.
Summer isn't over, which shouldn't be a surprise, but is.
What happens when these things we learn as Truths growing up--September means it'll be winter in the not-so-distant future and you can only eat pomegranates in December and if you smile at someone they will greet you warmly in response--turn out not to be so true? Oh the multitudes the world can contain when it's only distance to change all of that.
I've been here for over a year.
There are still people and places I miss so much it hurts--like chronic shin splints from not giving up running even when you should take a break, like noticing a huge scrape on your forearm that's started to sting now the adrenaline has worn off, like paper cuts from writing love letters but being careless, like a burn from a curling iron used in a moment of vanity. Sometimes like getting the wind knocked out of you by the truth of it all. I don't think it will ever go away. Not really. Not all the way.
(and yet.)
The world is not so easy on girls who imagined themselves to be robots while growing up and turned to have hearts after all.
(and yet. and yet. and yet.)
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