I send my greetings to my friends in the south, especially Batoul and Dima. I want to tell you that I miss you a lot, and I'm fine, still alive, just waiting for the war to end so I can see you. And to Batoul: I heard that your building was bombed, and I remember when we used to plan to meet at your tower, and you would make lunch for me with your own hands. It's a shame the tower is gone, but I still have hope that we will meet again, and it doesn't matter where, as long as we're together. This month, I turned 18, so I'm grown up now, and you can't say I'm younger than you anymore-we're the same age. The war made me more responsible, made me depend on myself, and helped me control my panic attacks. It also made me carry water from the ground floor to the third floor. We haven't had water since the start of the war, and there's no electricity, so we cook with wood. You know I have a wood allergy? I don't know how, but I started to accept it little by little. At first, I cried a lot because of the allergy, but I adapted, just like I adapted to hearing about death. I'm afraid of the day I might hear news about you, or you hear news about me. I just want the war to end so I can see you. I miss you so much, and I hope we meet soon.
#Rowan
#War
#Gaza
#Siege
#Resilience
#Hope
#Reunion
#Responsibility
#Youth
#LifeUnderSiege
#NewsOfDeath
#Longing
#Loss
#Memories
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