It took me 42 days to regain the ability to write. Writing about her is as difficult as accepting her loss.
Jumana, my university friend, is gone. A martyr.
Jumana, or Jeeji, as I used to call her, was her mother’s best friend, her father’s only daughter, and my heart’s delight.
She knew all the details and secrets of my days. She was the only one who knew my unrealistic dreams and encouraged me to pursue them. She answered all my silly questions with illogical answers. She was the best at understanding my glances.
She was everything. Now I have nothing. ….more
