Palestine, my dearly beloved

Palestine, you’ve possessed me in every way possible. I have always been attached to you, your cause, your people, your suffering, but lately, I have grown more attached to an instinct where I weep for your children, and I feel a personal responsibility to fill my day with you; new of you, photos of you, videos, books, and writings.

Palestine, I am spending my days thinking of you, reading about you, following your news on social media. I have grown so attached to the point that hours would pass, and I would do nothing but research you and track your steps, your deaths, your triumph.

Yesterday was my first day out of the house since last week. Last week, during Eid, you were the spoiled child of my holiday. I dressed you up in the prettiest keffiyeh, and I held your hand close to my heart all week long, I talked about you with my aunts and cousins, and I listened to the music that glorifies you.

I watched over your lands, and I looked at the sky, and I was so proud to share a sky so close to yours.

As I was in a village close to your borders, the sound of bombs hitting your children felt like it was hitting me, burning my skin; I wished it were me that is bombed and not you. I felt like hearing the sounds of bombs was one step closer to stand beside you, and even though it was burning my skin, I did not want to leave.

Yesterday, as I had to work from the office, and even though it was a lovely day at the office, I made sure to talk about you. And then I marched the streets of Beirut saluting you, and as I went out for shawarma after, I made sure you are present and alive in our talks and discussion. Palestine, despite all your deaths and pain, I tried to protect you and keep you warm and hopeful; I kept you alive within me.

And even though your shadow lingered around the whole day, I felt cold because I felt far from you. The whole time, I just wanted to go back home, go back to you; I felt so empty that I could not track your news, I felt so scared that something-worse-might happen to you and I’m not there.

Palestine, you have haunted me. With your bravery and resistance amid the most horrifying casualties and rubbles, you are living in me stronger than ever. I give my all to you, body and soul, and I hope to be part of the power that will liberate you. Maybe that way I can be free. I hope you set me free one day.