That Woman Is Me

 

Let me tell you a story about a woman who hates a leap day on February. Please sit down. And while you enjoy my story, you can have a cup of coffee.

Today, I see a woman standing in a field of flowers among butterflies, in a plain style green dress. Her hair’s been pulled up covered with tangerine yellow hijab. She stands with a green letter from her past with the gentle summer breeze to comfort her. Still, her body’s shaking, trembling. As she reads the letter once again, i see the water start running from her eyes. All over again.

She doesn't have any idea about how could her past keep breaking her heart, even until now. She's about losing her mind. Then she hears the sound of adzan in the distance.
Out of nowhere, the peace's surrounding her mind and heart.

She knows, it has to be done. The past is over, for ever. She takes a long deep breathe. Slowly she sets her step back at her home. As she wipes the tears away, she tries to smile so no one notices her sadness. She smiles. In disguise.

Let me tell you a story about a woman who hates a leap day on February. That woman is me. One year ago.

-FIN-