The Dark Shade Of Beirut

Letter To Beirut

The ghost of our love, "Mariya and I", is still here in Beirut, and I can see it everywhere. How painful is it? 

    Each time I decide to stroll over Beirut, but then my lungs would tighten, so tight that I forget how to breathe, so tight that my heart would skip a beat. 

    Today, I passed through Downtown, and it was just unbearable! The ringing bells of the churches made a beautiful symphony that made me remember your mind- blowing voice. 

   The way your lips would utter the words can be painted and sold out in an auction. But no, it will be way too precious. But then I found my legs leading me to Mar Mikhael. 

    Mostly, my eyes would lay down on young couples walking there with fingers intertwined but then our memories would cross my mind. And here we go, who would take them away? 
    I packed my bags and went out of my apartment. When I arrived to the airport, I felt so sad for leaving Beirut, for leaving my beloved country, Lebanon. 

     I promise to come back, but I need a new place. I need a place to feel free, but I can't find one in Beirut. I want to feel alive, hopefully I can find one far away from you, my magical city.

“Dear Beirut...
Words are beautiful. To produce them, I allow my fingers to move in a rhythmic and rather symphonic manner. These movements then deliver my thoughts and emotions into the minds of human beings who cannot be reached by the sound of my voice. I think it’s  time for me to start understanding that you are now just one of those cities that is out of my reach. So here are some words to you, to the city I can no longer know and cannot seem to find. 

The past few days I have done a lot of hard thinking about what happened earlier. I want you to know that everything that I am about to say is coming from the bottom of my heart. I am writing this letter as I watch you from the airplane’s window, perhaps for the last time, uncertain where I should begin.

I cannot formulate those emotions into words. The same way I cannot describe the way it felt to have you rip that all to pieces. You betrayed me the moment you let me meet Mariya and encounter all the undesirable feelings with her. You made the hurricane meet the chaos, and when they met, they burned love and danced on its ashes. And you were just watching, perhaps enjoying the big mess you have made.
Over the past twelve months, I have loyally served you with care, attention, tender but mostly I have served you with love. But what did you do in return? The hopes and dreams I used to build on you are totally demolished just like your buildings after war. 

As I grew up, I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, boxes that held expensive things, and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss under the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now that I am older I have realized it’s nothing like that at all. Because true love is growing up and have the honor to live between your ribs close to your heart, and maybe living in the soul of you, meanwhile I haven’t seen you enough.

True love is when I used to spell my feelings at 3 am as I roam your forgotten streets, which I remember the most now. True love is, dear Beirut, to treat the other in a way he always expected it from you.

I am deeply hurt, and my heart will undoubtedly be scarred because I will no longer be living in your soul. Although I can’t take you with me, I have given you my heart to keep it forever. Cherish it the way I have cherished you, and I will always love you. 

You have tainted every memory I have. No matter what I remember, it will always be you. Send my hellos to your streets and cafes. Send my hellos to the tiniest details I used to capture and paint. 
You are everywhere and it’s killing me.

You are in my head.
You are in my heart.
And I can’t get you out. 
I remember the funny days I had with Mariya in my beloved city,   And I laugh and laugh, 
Until I cry and cry. 

My beautiful Beirut, I will always love you, whether I'm here or not. 
With all the love and hate I hold, 

Murad.” 

Beirut,
Sunday, February 17, 2019
With all my love…