Beirut to Brussels
I was against online dating apps. Then came the first lockdown in March 2020, when I finally signed up on tinder on my friend's advice. My thirties were full of dysfunctional relationships. I attracted men who weren't ready to commit. They just wanted to have fun, or it turned out they were depressed. I promised myself last year that I only give a chance to a man who knows and also feels that he wants me and only me. With this determination, my online dating life began.
We matched in April 2020, but he was in Beirut, and I was in Brussels. Although our conversations were fun, I didn't pay much attention to him as I saw little chance of meeting. He wasn't pushy, but he was perseverant. To be honest, I liked it. Thanks to him, communication was not interrupted between us. Then in August, the explosion happened in Beirut. That's when we first talked. It was good to hear that everything was fine with him. I could hear in his voice self-confidence and warmth. We texted each other more, and sometimes we even talked. And at Christmas, he sent me a present. When I held that Christmas gift in my hand at a distance of 3,500 km from him, I just realised that I probably met the man I wished for. That's when I started to open to him. I responded more frequently to his messages, and then our video calls became more frequent. We were already talking daily in February. We started to get to know each other better, and so we began to fall in love from a distance. But the likelihood of a physical encounter was very low.
To reduce the frustration caused by waiting, I started an online Instagram project (@until_the_day_we_meet). I didn't want to live with this frustration. I felt it takes me apart. I get articles from him every day about Lebanon, from which I write a poem until we finally meet. Maybe in June, if France opens its borders to non-EU countries. We hope. We look forward to it. The desire, of course, is enormous. We hope it also stays when we can finally see each other for real. Until then, we work with everyday life. And then we'll hold past time in our hands in the form of a poetry book. That June would just come.