Interior Monologue

I still remember the day when I sat in the balcony in the ICARDA guesthouse in Damascus telling my dad about my life twenty years in the future. I had even drawn him a colour picture of what my house would be like - it had a big bedroom for me and my husband, rooms for my parents and in-laws, servants quarters, a dog, a driveway, a few children - it was a big house. I remember telling him how happy, buoyant, pure, and honest my life would be. I was ten at that time.

I'm horrified to see how the by lanes of life that I've traversed have brought me here. Trauma, unhappiness, riddled emotions, low self-esteem, and being lied to. He has made a fool of me. Life has made a fool of me. I'm twenty seven now.

How did my life take this turn? How did I not see the signs? Why didn't I protect myself? Why did I hurl myself into the throes of so-called love? I wish I could rewind my life. I wish I could fast forward to death. I wish I wasn't.