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Amal El Minshawi

@amalalmenshawi@amalalmenshawi

November 19 2021

No matter how much I try, my hope, I have nothing but my heart.. I only have words that remain an expression of my love.

He was tormented with her love and wrote these poems to her, followed her news and satisfied with wishes, and she took what he wrote in it and gave it to her friends to read it and wonder how all this love could not be felt or moved the rock of her heart. It was never a dream and I promised it nothing.”

She loved, married and gave birth, and he remained a prisoner of her love, refusing the attempts of others to open the closed windows of his heart, as if he swore to breathe her torment and torment himself with it, until loneliness lost his youth and took the illusion of his days without waking up, and he lived tirelessly following her news and asking about her conditions, waiting for a moment of fate, which never came. You might return it to him.

I received a “brochure” of his poems dripping with love and devotion after they took turns reading it many before me, and each one donated it to her friends.

I read it in its entirety in one sitting on many of it and reread it over and over again, and I was at the time in the early twenties and had a passion for poetry and literature, and I was greatly influenced by it until I memorized his first verses, which were a gift to her eyes at the beginning of his tormented notebook that he sent to her when he knew the date of her engagement.

I grew up and experienced life and realized that painful fateful decisions we sometimes make by closing ourselves on the illusion of a lonely love or an idea we embraced or feelings we refuse to leave because we think we can’t continue without them, then we wake up at the end of the road to deprivation.

Change and volatility are the year of the universe and a feature of life, and hearts are united by friendship and respect, and not with painful love, especially if it is one-sided, that insults pride and extinguishes the sun of days, and locks up our energies and our appetite for people and things.

Hearts broken with a single love, closed to the illusion of a single feeling, succumbing to their pain, die while they are still alive, with all the good, happiness and possible beginnings in them with each new dawn.

It is true that we do not have our feelings that may hurt us sometimes when they go to those who do not receive them and do not exchange us in love with the same, but we do have our will, our dignity and our pride, and they are the source of our protection and are able to save us from the pain of rejection and the humiliation of rejection, and only they open our eyes gently to the illusions of what we feel.

Each of us has a chance of happiness and misery, but happiness often brings new doors and windows into our lives, but we must first open them and give ourselves and our lives real opportunities for love and life.

• Volatility is the year of the universe and a feature of life, and hearts unite with love and respect.

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