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The invisible sacrifices for the voiceless love

I never found any reason to give up on my biggest wish [for my future] ...
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For months I would wake up to sweat believing I'm still on the Gate at Imam-Khomeini International Airpot at Tehran and the guy won't let me go, something is wrong with my visa ... and I was relieved after 5 or 10 minutes to be sure that I am still in Geneva, even though since a long while I wished I had left this city forever ...


My first encounter with suicide was from a story I read by Jules Verne in middle school years, in it a guy heavily in debt committed suicide in the beginning chapters but later on it turned out the life wasn't going to be so brutal on him as he had imagined had he not committed suicide, as his debt was lessened. So I picked up the idea that if you don't commit suicide things will turn better than you had believed in the past ...

Later on, it was Cecilia Ahern's "How to Fall in Love" that would strengthen that belief that beyond suicide there are things in life to do ...


Last time I was in Iran my best friend [sort of] invited me to the most expensive restaurant in Tehran, a price tag I would have never afforded in my life and never paid for food, at least not Iran, but there was a simple reason to it, people close to me know that perfection brings joy to my life, a perfect prepared meal, a perfect play by Lionel Messi, a perfect ... and they wanted to see me happy, he, his wife and their son, I like the three of them but the damages in my life are so severe that there simply doesn't exist a place for enjoying a masterpiece ...

Since A. S. has left the whole life turned to a constant battle for suicide inside me, every moment of it, in addition to all other stuff that I was obliged to perform one way or the other and I've been searching for a sort of masterpiece for suicide too, after all, you die once, you don't like it to be something you would not have enjoyed had you seen it from outside, for example here is one of the spots I saved, that particular moment, the air, the musician, the Coke, but the bridge wasn't high enough, the stupid construction stuff, so ... anyway ...


For three days in row after the night I met A. S.'s boyfriend I couldn't think of anything but suicide, and guess what [as Bernie Sander's would say]: "I lost the perfect moment for suicide", no pain, no immense pain, no pain for the letters I wrote to her after she left, no pain of not hearing from her when I came to Switzerland for the first time in my life, no pain for her lying to me that she has exams, no pain for her parents treating me that way, no pain for the endless pain of every moment of this fucking life ...


There is a lot that I hate around Iran, I never wished to go there ever again, but it was my sister's wedding with a guy I was against her marriage to him, I missed it, kind of deliberately, I mean, I expected Joelle, A. S.'s sister not to attend A. S.'s wedding, when she knew that I love her, how could I have not done the same ...

But I’m a human and after a certain limits unless the God saves me, I will give up too, for months everyone was whispering in my ears to go back to Iran, after all in Islam respect for family is important, or at least meeting the relatives once in a while, so I agreed, I got a permission, I bought a ticket, bought some gifts and hopla, I'm coming ...


Since a while, I was perfectly sure, if nothings works out and I go to Iran, I have one undone task, that is good to be done, here is a passage from a lengthy note I published on Facebook:

... but I think, if I really knew you were married before that, I would have killed myself. One of the things that sometimes stop me was the fact that I didn’t had access to a gun so easily as I could have had in Iran. I think in Iran I know whom to ask to get a gun, and I didn’t wanted my suicide be associated with issues like migration, or politics or whatever, I even considered going back to Iran and buying a gun and finish, but I found it too harsh toward especially my family that they be glad that I am there to visit them, when behind the scene I am there to kill myself. I have heard lots of love stories that people threaten each other with suicide, but I didn’t wanted my suicide to seem like that. Honestly, I wasn’t committing suicide to force you to have a relationship with me, for me there was no life after the idea that I love you and you don’t love me, for me our relationship was a mystery that if I cannot solve it, I cannot live. I once asked two psychologist friends what do you do, when someone really wants to commit suicide, but their answers made me be more stuck - I even left a suicide note for someone, just to explain after my death that it was not triggered by this event or that event- you know, because some days I cannot trust my life to myself and maybe it was for the best. I mean, I spent lots of money, and beside that my parents are always sad because of me, maybe at the end for them it would have been better, for you too, I never wanted to live for three days after I met your boyfriend and for nearly all the moments of my life since you left. Yes, Yes, I met a girl called N., actually my plan was that I give to her what I had in my hand, so after I am dead, she will be the one that protects it [if Allah wills], or better said is protected by it … So, that was my whole wish when I met her. Like: horraaa! I give it to her and goodbye, and God please forgive me for the rest of undone tasks in my life … but you know she was so happy for me. I only ever saw two persons so happy for me in my life one of them was the male part of that couple in Iran that I told you, I really want to visit them again and that I miss them immensely and the other one is N. screaming on the phone that I can stay a bit longer.

October 8, 2016

So as I was sitting on the chair thinking whether I should risk going to Iran now that I know my visa has a problem, an hour before the flight, I knew the visa problem didn't matter much, I have the ticket, everyone thinks I'm going to meet my family, and even afterward people could comfort themselves with the idea that I killed myself because of visa problem, so it was the best option I had for a while now ...


Those endless nightmares, my intuition that this flight is going to be a one-way flight and if I take it I won't ever come back, each of these made me extremely self-conscious to pay all that I owed before I take the plane. I transferred the fee of the university just before the flight, I called everyone necessary, I said goodbye to everyone who could have had a fair claim why I left forever without notice, and it was still before I realized the mistake with my visa [thanks to Allah] ...

One thing however with my plans wasn't exactly what I wanted. It was weekend, there was a breathtaking beautiful extremely gifted woman I asked her number in 12 years old fashion, only cuz I wanted her to know how much I love her, she had written me right after that that I am not her right guy, but how she responded to my responses made me think of her being my "right woman" [as she would use it]. So, I wanted to stay that weekend and ask to meet her ... [like many other weekends afterward that I did and she never showed up]


The only thing before my flight I wasn't sure about was how to say goodbye to my dream wife, should I tell her that I have this intuition that if I take this fly I will never come back, maybe she would then think I a kind of spiritual junkie who claims to have contact with angels and ghosts and so on ... Should I really tell her that this goodbye is so important to me, I mean the sheer fact that I'm telling her that I'm leaving for the weekend sounds like she is my intimate circle of friends and she clearly said she is not interested in me ...

I send her an SMS that I'm leaving and a couple of hours later that I couldn't because of a visa problem and that I missed my sister's wedding and she said that she felt sorry for that ...

The unwritten and untold part that only me and the God knows of is the couple of minutes where I was sitting there in front of the gate, my luggage on its way to the airplane and me realizing I can't go out of Iran with this visa, I have to at least stay for two years for obligatory military service, I could go, pretend that I don't know that and stay a week and kill myself at the end just as it was my plan A ever since I met A. S.’s boyfriend a few years ago ...

Maybe I’ve been too alone for a too long time, maybe my surrounding have always been too empty of anyone I could be interested in, but her existence alone makes me need to live …

Dates

  • Published:
  • Published: Friday, October 6, 2017

Keywords

Credits

  • Author: Scrappy Nobody

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