I have yet dreamt of you again, how dare I forget?

Reflecting on my exhausting day at work while studying at a coffee shop, it clicked.

How dare I forget?

You were in the back of my mind when I’ve been asked if I had a dream today…

You were nothing but a foggy thought, and responded, “I’m not sure?”

How dare I forget?

I was listening to Marcel Khalifa’s song, “I Pass by Your Name” as I heard the melody accompanied by that familiar soft Oud sound.

How dare I forget?

A whole city was made as a replica of you, as the song lyrics say, “Just like a Damascian passing by Andalusia….

It finally clicked.

How dare I forget?

In my dream this morning, I was walking down your streets looking at my path with those old Romanian square pavements.

I was passing by the antique shops that had an Oud that I stopped by to strum and play.

How dare I forget?

As I was walking in those old alleys there was a river that was surpassing reality and beautifully running with trees surrounding it and their leaves rustling.

Twelve years, almost half of my age has gone by and I haven’t stepped a foot in you again.

How can I convince others that the quality of my life depends on living in you? even with the terrible situation you’re in?

Now I know that Nizar Kabbani was not exaggerating about his poems of you, “For I am a Damascian, if you have opened my veins you would find grapes and apples”.

So tell me, how dare I forget?