Saving the Old Letters

Ever since I was a child I was always terrified with my Mom's continuous eagerness towards arranging closets and drawers. She would them turn them over and start arranging everything inside them.

My little sins were always discovered in such events.

Today she decided to clean up the ruins of my library -and here it is not a metaphor , they are actually all my books that were left without shelter as she gave away the closet to my brothers house- and as always I felt that uneasiness towards the whole thing.

I felt totally naked while my Mom, aunt , brother and sister in law were arranging the books , because each page had in it a peace of paper that has things that I wrote many many years ago , or tree leaves and things that mean -or used to mean- something only to me , and would absolutely look ridiculous to anyone besides me.

In the midst of all that mess I found the file where I kept Ahmad's letters. I saved the file and left the scene because as I have this file then nothing else matters.

Ahmad was my first love. I dont know anything about him now , and he has changed in my perspective now that he is not a person anymore, he is more of a symbol to my enlightment.

I stopped loving him a long long time ago , but his letters were filled with wisdom , philosophy and literature and every time I read them I see something new in them. Mostly I see what he saw in me meanwhile I was a 15 years old distracted teenager.

For what its worth, I dont recall ever having a solid and durable feeling as this one. This gratitude to this guy who came into my life for 5 simple months and transformed me from a close minded child to a young lady with so much potential.

For what its worth ,,,, I wanna say: Thank you :)