Spring rain falls, and in the corners of the hills and mountains, you can see fresh green grass and tree blossoms about to bloom. Normally, I should feel good, but here I am, sitting in a café near my home, writing these lines.

In recent days, the foundations of my life have collapsed, and I lost everything in less than 48 hours. Everything I had built was taken from me, leaving me with a shattered city that I have to rebuild for the umpteenth time (I really don’t know how many times).

In the background of my current mood, the desperate cries and sobs of someone who destroyed one of these foundations linger. Exhausted by betrayals and my own forgiveness, I no longer know what to do. Where did I go wrong that anyone could so easily allow themselves to devalue me, ignore me completely, or when they mess up, come begging and hope I’ll give of my capacity, character, and identity again to forgive? I don’t know.

In any case, I am exhausted. Starting from zero has drained me completely. There’s no part of my body or soul left unscathed. I don’t know this time what to build my life upon and rise again. I emigrated to start everything anew, yet everything I started over again collapsed, becoming exactly what I had fled from.

Spring rain continues to fall, and now neither Hafez, Saadi, and Rumi hold meaning, nor do Shajarian or any voice speaking of love. Everything is gone.