I was fidgeting in the car while staring at the large onion fields from the window. in few minutes, I would finally meet her. I have imagined the whole conversation in my head days before, prepared all my lines, and learnt my text by heart to avoid any awkwardness. What if she refuses to see me? Weirdly, I did not cry at all during the four hours journey. I was placidly waiting to arrive in Ifrane. The radio was on. I could hear voices talking but could not listen. I was completely lost in my thoughts, drowning in my own memories. He was the first friend I made when I joined the university a year ago, and now, he is gone. The thought of not seeing him anymore gave me goose bumps, brought tears into my eyes, created a weird feeling that my whole body was experimenting, a sort of quick heart attack. For a second, my heart stopped beating and I could not breathe, the same feeling I had when I first got the shocking news. I could still not face the reality; my brain was still not processing the event. His death caused me so much pain, made me feel emotions I never thought existed. “I am not crying today.”, I murmured to myself and managed to prevent my tears from falling. I turned to my father and asked him if I was dressed appropriately, if I should not have worn more traditional clothes instead. He explained to me that it was okay as the funeral already took place. In our Moroccan culture, women generally wear djellabas and scarves to present condolences. With my black hoodie and brown sweatpants hiding all my skin, my long hair released behind my ears, my pale face, and dark circles under my eyes, I was a living dead
ready to present hers to the mother. Shortly after, I could see dead leaves on the sidewalks, houses with hip roofs, chimneys, beautiful architecture, and green spaces all around them. I have not been there for months, I almost forgot Ifrane was this captivating. My dad pulled over in front of a calm building, asked me to call him as soon as I was done, and said some supportive words that I did not hear as I was getting myself mentally ready for whatever was coming next. I slowly walked up the stairs until I reached the second floor and stood in front of their apartment. The door was open, I knocked and waited outside. His mother came, we quietly stared at each other for a long minute., and suddenly jumped in each other’s arms. At that exact moment, I realized that I was not there to present my condolences. I was there because I needed to feel his presence, needed to see his mother, needed to accept the reality. At that exact moment, I realized life will never be the same without him.
