Rayyan Salam

If I have any say in this, I swear on your name you will never read it. Perhaps this letter is more for me than you, more of a rant on paper than an ode to feelings I’ve yet to express. I imagine that this will be short and concise because what's the point? I imagine reading isn’t different than my begging, sodden face in front of yours. I imagine, just like every other time I’ve ever forgotten to bite down on my feelings shaped like words, you won’t even bat an eye at what I put on this page. Which, I guess, doesn’t matter because you’ll never lay a hand on this piece… if I have any say in this.
I’ll dwell on it nonetheless. I never know how to avoid disappointment, despite expecting it.

I found out the other day that a doe will leave her fawn for extended periods of time. Just leave it sitting in the grass all day before coming back. A fawn, a newborn, alone all day. I might be overreacting.
Think about it, though. Imagine being a newborn, fresh into life. In a world you know nothing about, you know who your mother is. The only certainty. Then they’re gone, and you’re alone. Stuck in a spot where there's nowhere to go and nothing to do. Anxiety kicks in, the ground starts shaking, and you’re frozen
You’re lost and lonesome. You start thinking why. Why did she leave you? Why are you alone in the open? What if you get killed, eaten, or taken? You scream for help, but nothing stirs. Alone, alone, alone.
Then you’re not. She’s back. She brought food, warmth, and affection. She left you, and she will again. But who cares? At least you got to feel some love. That’s what matters, isn't it? 
Love?

I was listening to a record the other day. Two Ghosts by Harry Styles is playing in the background while I do homework.
We're just two ghosts standin' in the place of you and me
Trying to remember—
Trying to remember—
Trying to remember—
The record kept scratching, forever making me wonder what he was trying to remember. I lifted up the needle and set it back down, but it skipped to the next verse.
You are my broken record.
Scratching and repeating. Backtracking and skipping. Constantly wondering what you’re trying to say. Your decisions, your mistakes, your marriage, your words, but not your actions, all repeat. Can’t you see? Repetition is not good; it hurts not only you, but me, your listener.
If I put a penny on your needle, I might be able to hear what you're thinking, but then the pressure would damage you forever. I yearn to understand what you have to say or how the clock in your brain ticks, but to understand is to damage, and I know the pressure of a penny too well to inflict it back on you. I love you too much to hurt you the way you hurt me. That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?
Love?

A couple of months ago, I told you that your indecision about whether to leave your husband hurts me. This is the fifth time we’ve had this conversation. Did you know? Did you forget, like you always have? Did you not care?
I think forgetfulness is ignorance. Ignorance of how the remembered is affected.
A couple of months ago, you separated from your husband and moved across the country to stay closer to us while you made up your mind. I didn’t want your past while I was busy focusing on my future, and yet you came. For the week you spent with us, not once did you ask about my test the following Wednesday. Not once did you inquire about the applications I was working on endlessly, or whether I was even prepared to leave home to spend a month in Africa.
I failed that test.
A couple of months ago, you were still deciding the future of your marriage. In the two days after I came back, not once did you ask to see photos from a country that changed my soul. Not once did you ask about what I learned or who I made friends with. Instead, you picked a fight, and we didn’t talk for three weeks.
I still haven’t shown you my photos.

Do you remember when I was 10? Do you remember how you praised me for staying happy all the time? Do you remember grabbing my shoulders and telling me to never forget that I am your ray of sunshine?
Did you ever see the rain staining the light? Did you ever notice the boulders that blocked the sun from my face? Did you ever look to see the words lodged in my stomach?
Did you ever notice? Or did you forget?

Loving you feels like a doe and her fawn.
No matter how many signs I have or how much history fills the distance between us, I always wait for your warmth. You find me in my most isolated moment and shower me with love and affection. When I gather courage and finally open my mouth to speak words no longer caught in my throat, you leave me again.
I’m sent back to the silence to endure it alone once more.

It’s important that you know I don’t blame you. I worry for you, I pity you, I’m scared for you. Have you ever noticed that I feel so deeply about this because I care about you? Our fights are more than tears and unspoken yells, more than anger passed from your shoulders to mine. 
I’ll forever continue to never know how to not be disappointed despite expecting disappointment, because my hope is devotion.
And that’s what all this is about.
Love.