A GOODBYE
It was stormy, cold day, autumn breezes were crashing against her window from time to time and Anne was sitting there without blinking her eyes like a statue in Plato’s academy of Athens, lost in the typhoon of her thoughts. Meanwhile, her mother knocked on the door.
‘’Anne be ready, your father is about to arrive, you have to go to the market’’
It shocked her for a while, she quickly placed her sketch book back in her tote bag, her eyes got captivated by her very own laptop, her ‘fantasia’. A river of tears, started to follow through her eyes. Today was the day, she had to go to market to buy a new laptop, as her ‘fantasia’ was no longer working. She had to replace it, although her heart was reluctant to idea of let go of her partner of years, with whom she shared her nights, days, her ideas, her laughter. It wasn’t easy for her to let go.
She took out her diary and began to write something, while tears flowed through her eyes:
‘I loved you as much as I love blue, as much as I love winter. You have been a piece of my heart for so long; no one can take your place. Fantasía. Goodbyes are hard, yet inevitable. Leaves grow from the stem, withstand so many winds, breezes, and storms, until they lose the stem and fall in late autumn. Spring returns with new leaves, but can they replace their predecessor? Just like the Deluge can’t replace the Big Bang. Wounds shed skin, yet when they heal, they leave a scar behind. Oceans dry up, yet they leave behind their remains. Nothing is replaceable. Everything holds a somewhat unique place in space, and this prophecy is eternal, long-standing, and as old as the tiniest particle in the universe.’’
She closed the diary with the hope that fantasia will always accompany her as memory of love and resilience. The storm outside had been silenced just like ashes of pain in her heart.
Fiza Amir is a Pakistani writer and poet, and a medical student by training. Her work grows out of hospital wards, history, and the quiet interior lives of people—where grief, compassion, and resilience meet. She writes with a spare, lyrical voice that turns lived moments into witness, believing that some stories survive only when they are written.