Entelechy

How do you fall in love with a city you have never visited? A city that you are scared to even dream about - you've never even set eyes on it, what if your dreams are nothing more than just a micrscopic glimpse into a world that is eons deep in history and cultre? You don't dream because there could be so much more and you'd have no idea. It'd lack purity, its essence would never be captured. What if you are scared of all this, yet you sit around and day dream about the city you love all day?

How do you fall in love with a city just from hearing about it? From reading articles and newspaper stories about it? How do you feel jealous of someone from there when you've never even been within a hundred miles of it?

How and more importantly, Why am I so connected to this city - a city I wish I was in, every minute of my days? It has dawned upon me that it won't do to just visit, I want to live in this city that I have heard so much about, am excited about more than any other place in the world - a city where I know my life will lead me to at some point. It has to, it would be punishment for a past life if it didn't.

The music, the food, the people, the land - I feel it all calling my name. I wish I was there in the heart of its streets, protesting last year. I wish I had stood among the millions and declared, in my own connected way, my will to live, my hope for freedom, my ability to love, accept and understand all that this city has learnt through the ages. Its name on someone's tongue, even a stranger, is cause enough for a friendship. Its mere mention sets my senses ablaze.

I do not belong to this city. I have only read about it and heard about it from friends. I have only pondered what my life would be like were I in it. I don't know anyone there, I have no clue what I would do for work when I am there. But, it calls out to me- everyday now. Its on my mind all the time. I have thought about it more than the one girl I have ever loved. I long for its sounds more than I long for her voice. I long to touch its buildings, trips upon its potholes, eat while walking its alleys, and above all, to breathe its air.

How is such a love possible? How can a man love the idea of something so deeply? I know now what men must feel when they fight for freedom without a second thought, without an inch of doubt. They are focused on something greater than them, something precious that has haunted them since they learnt of its existence. I know now what it must feel like to love an idea, to live your life in the hopes of it one day becoming a reality. I know now what it is like to love in the hope of living.

Beirut, I'm coming.