I hold two truths within me. I am split. I am in a constant tug of war, with no end in sight. There is a truth that my family was never a family. We led and live isolated lives, each one doing their own thing. There is a truth that we found joy with each other, sometimes.
That word. Sometimes. It is so important here.
In the kaleidoscope of these 3 lives, joy tries to make its presence known. Sometimes, I can feel it. Most days, I cannot. I have photographs to validate this joy. It tries to scream and claw its way into existence in my memories. It screams to be seen.
Today, I see both. The agony and the joy. I am flooded with memories that are joyful while simultaneously being flooded by memories of complete and utter hopelessness.
I see us playing in the park, I hear our laughter as we run around in the wet, dewy grass, laughing till our stomachs hurt and we run the risk of throwing up our dinners. I see the photos of us at the waterpark and try to remember what it was like to be there. I remember him urging me to swim in the Lazy River and me wondering, “who the hell swims like you are in the Olympics in a ride that is called LAZY RIVER?!” I remember her taking me out to the mall to get me clothes all the while not getting anything for herself. I can hear the smooth engine of the Pajero and the radio that he loved. I hear her almost manic laughter of playing with mannequin hands and waving to strangers on the road from the car. I see him trying to keep a straight face through it but failing miserably. I remember walking on Riqqa road at night with them, holding their hands and experiencing something that feels a little like home, a little like an asylum, a little like security.
I remember feeling like the child that I was instead of the adult that I had to be.
And I grieve for all 3 of us. I feel the agony of that joy and the agony of what we put each other through. I remember the adage, “hurt people hurt people” and I cannot help but see it play out in our lives. I feel these two truths deeply. We love each other AND we make each other suffer. We care deeply for each other AND we strike where it hurts the most. We yearn to find kinship in each other AND yet, we are strangers to each other. I hold his truth AND I hold hers.
I hold two truths and I remember…
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