"Weeping, Wishing and Waiting"

 

A frame hangs on the wall opposite the table where I sit to breathe. For so long, it went unnoticed, merely a part of the decor—just another painting. After days of staring at it, I cannot determine whether I perceive it as an intriguing painting or a reflection of reality. It narrates a story of departure, or perhaps waiting.
I imagine myself standing there. When someone close to me departed, my eyes didn’t blink until his figure completely vanished. My world, which had included him, contracted as he walked away. I remained there weeping, wishing, and waiting.

So many calendars have changed since then, but it still feels like this very evening. The world witnessed the sunset with hope, and so did I, though hopeless. Departures haunt me, scratching at scars that have yet to heal.

Still, the void chases me. Memories knock at the door at midnight. The frame remains static, while all dynamics push me toward the state of departure. Everything feels heartbreaking, drowning in a sea of silent cries. None can hear me, none can save me except myself. It has been many long years of longing. Now, I must depart from the frame to truly live and love again because the world is hopeful enough to offer arrivals. Yet, apart from all arrivals, I’ll keep returning to our departure—weeping, wishing, and waiting.

~Aamna