My racing heartbeats lead tonight’s dance with the sparkling light of the moon, each time her innocent shy face makes its way through my mixed emotions and my racing thoughts about Syria, my family, my uncertain future.
“No, I am not gonna fall again. I can’t be that stupid,” I tell myself and try to resist sending her another message or some dumb picture of me to get her talking again. My God, do I ever learn?
Is it love again? Or is it my endless search for home – for my mom’s tender hugs, my second half, my One – that is telling me now that it might be her this time?
How can I be so selfish, thinking about my childish feelings while I should be concentrating on my tour and the revolution during these critical moments? I start lecturing myself while finding my way through yet another airport, heading to another event in another state.
I look at all the pretty girls around me and convince myself that I can forget her. And then I remember her oriental beauty that caught me by surprise the minute I saw her smiling on Facebook. Oh, damn!
She probably notices that I care too much. I don’t know… does she? Should I tell her or is it too soon? What if she doesn’t feel the same? What would I do then? I am a teenager again.
Oh dear God, I don’t think I can take another barrel-bombed heart. Yes, her love is barrel-bombing me and there is no place to hide from barrel bombs.
I am gonna write to her and say:
Sarin gas stopped my heart
Can you be my atropine, yes or not?
Surviving starvation was so hard
Can I have the piece of candy called your hand?
Careful though with the red lines I say
Cuz I am not Obama. I’ve got revolutionary sway
Be my Erdogan, don’t be a Bashar
So you can roll my soul when I am near or far
My love is action
I am not Ki-Moon
I will fight to get you, even if all I have is a spoon
I should stop writing, oh my God
Please say yes and we will be so glad
When we will be together, we will have fun
Please listen to ‘Two is Better than One’
I am waiting for an answer from you to hear
…till then I’m out of here!