Chapter Fourteen, Untangled Obscurities

The part of my body choose
To do things beyond my command.
But when life doesn't confuse,
They listen to me like a friend.

When my eyes see enchanting change,
They glow with a fire of gale.
When my soul joyfully is not strange,
It diminishes the color of pale.
When my head is only for the ease,
It doesn't hurt of constant pain.
When my legs are only after breeze,
They endure nature, sun or rain.

At times, love melts into sky.
Mind is tired of what we've done.
Obscurities won't be untangled, they die.
Eyes loose the sight of what they've begun,
When they only want to see why.

A beloved, who has searched for long,
Comes upon his love, where ever it was laid.
Love has a new look, like a new song,
which echoes in air as we're over dread.
It has genuine feeling, no longing for wrong.
But is this new born love what we've said?
*
The recurring idea, the formative implication, that bonding being held between two schemes in virtue of which one is logically deducible from the other, did not affect Anna from out there, it did not run her life; however, it did create all the quintessence she needed. They were all inseparable from her , like her physical existence and her soul. Without them, she was only bones and skin, and with them, she was alive. The uncertainty and wavering of the world was brought to her vision by a force more powerful than death. It was promise of life and eternity that she held on to it firmly. Within herself, she could stand on solidity. Outside her actuality, everything was runny and watery. She knew that she could not be washed out by that power; therefore, she would grasp onto what was inside of her, hope, firmness, and soundness.
In that state of mind, she could perhaps help a friend to stand firm, too, and not to wash away by storm. That help would not be a promise for infinity but it would be a promise of teaching someone else a hope, a likelihood of learning actuality; the exact same thing she had learned by suffering. However, the conclusion of this discovery was not to forget remembrance. In fact she wanted to keep all her memories intact. Within them could she find her mistakes that should not be repeated. She could also teach a friend to have remembrances, that awareness of imagination.
Writing diary was not for a friendly reader or any reader; it was for clarifying her soul and keeping her memories alive; it was only for her eyes. She knew the language she would use in her writing would be an image of her cogitation; it would be a language that no one else could read it in America where she lived, Farsi.
Stacy had a combination of insight and fanciful notion in her character; however, to Anna, there was always something conflicting and remote in her mannerism which astonished Anna. Stacy was disturbingly clever, and at the same time forgetful. But that did not scare Anna for their future relation because they were always able to equilibrate with calmness. Anna did not see any danger in their growth in spite of being so different. It was not like they were happy now to move like a wind, and the next minute they would doubt and hurt each other. They relatively shared the other's emotion without confusion, though sometimes they bewildered each other.
A week of vacation at Stacy's parents brought a different kind of vision to Anna. She was carried away for what she had seen and sensed; however, she had an incisive apprehension of what was hers and what was not. Sometimes in her wildest dream, she yearned Stacy's life style or wished she was born in America; but naturally when the dream was over, she knew those visions were only an illusion or a transient thought. Stacy's past was not hers, nor her past was Stacy's. But some how these two young women, two years apart in age, had come together to share something more precious than life, friendship.
Sometimes when they debated endlessly, Anna would say:
"I even don't know if my past worthy of my present!"
And of course Stacy would exhilarate and say:
"Weren't you the one that preaching about connection of past and present? I thought you always search the traces of old shadows."
Even though Stacy's remark was sarcastic, It made Anna to think harder and more profoundly.
"Do you think I am complicated?" Anna inquired.
"Sometimes you scare me with your perplexity." Stacy said cheerfully.
"Occasionally I doubt loving my past. It is losing its glamour." Anna sighed with displeasure.
"But remember every lost charm or glamour has its own life. It's better being alive than lost." Stacy said gently.
Anna shuddered and went as white as sheet. She was startled by the perceivable mental weight that her brother's death had affected her.
Looking into herself, where she had been, where she was now, and where she would be, brought her a meticulous silence. If she wanted to carry that hateful load, two lives were already been destroyed, her brother's and hers. What would happen to her father then? How could he handle this new tragedy? She had to do something for releasing herself from that cursed thoughts which were dragging her to even killing herself. Knowing that soon she would be graduated and could get a job and take more courses to get her master brought a sudden smile to her lips. Her father would be proud of her. She needed to survive and thrive if not for herself but for her father.
*

To Be Continued