By Lea Bdeir | Staff Writer
I lived most of my life in one place – the inside of my head.
I was so hung up on the past, the random moments, overthinking and analyzing. I reached university still trapped within the walls of my mind – a wandering soul searching for an anchor and a destination. It was as if I wanted to leave, had my things packed up in a suitcase, but stayed by the door… awaiting something I knew was missing, yet all my fears and internal strife kept me from being mobile.
Then one day, a revelation blossomed within me. I should go to a fortune teller, maybe if I know my future, I won’t be so stuck in the past. After I had made this decision, it was like every sign around me was pointing me towards visiting the psychic; or I wanted to believe that. I managed to find her number and booked an appointment for the following day.
As I arrived at the location she had sent, I began to stare at her blue door, and what a peculiar shade of blue it was: not too bright, not too somber, just the perfect balance between light and darkness. The crevices of the door were scratched and ostensibly moldy. It was as though she had painted over the crime scene with a coat of smelly paint. The handle however was a particular shade of gold: she wanted you to notice the golden handle in an attempt to mask the rest of the entrance.
As I walked through her portal, I expected to find carpets and crystals, chandeliers and potions; I was received with the smell of cooked onions and a few dozen cats. She looked so mundane – like I could walk right passed her in the street without noticing her. She sat me down and began shuffling her deck of cards, my life within her palms.
The cards began to fall, each one provoking intensified reactions from her – “oh no!”, “Yi”, “ya Allah”. By the end of the card shuffle, she was speechless and almost sad. She threw her cigarette in the ashtray and glared once again at the deck of cards in front of her, her face grew pale.
She asked me to leave immediately and never come back; telling me to pray and count my days. I stayed there paralyzed, demanding an answer.
“Do you really want to know?” she asked.
“Yes please,” I replied.
“You will not live to see the age of 21,” she began. “But before reaching your end you will be greeted by death several times; by those closest to you.”
“You will not get into medical school, despite your best efforts.”
“The love of your life will cheat on you and you will stay with him.”
“Your days will be sad and dull until one day, God decides to end your suffering.”
I couldn’t breathe. There’s no way! She was lying, I’m sure. This was all part of a scam for me to keep coming back. It can’t be true.
Can it?
But then she began weeping, and so did I.
What now?
I left her place unable to speak. The next day I dropped out of university and hid from the world – my 21st birthday was coming up soon. My body reflected my psychological state, and I grew tired and ill. The malady was in my mind, no pill could reverse what my head was battling. So I sat and waited.
Here is the surprise in all of this: my 21st birthday came, so did my 22nd, so did my 30th, and I’m still waiting. I made no friends, never pursued my education, remained mute and hidden.
There comes a point in our lives where we think we can pinpoint the intricate moment where it all went wrong – and this was undoubtedly mine. Carrying a mind clouded by a blue fog, and a heart heavy by that piquant cigarette aroma, I wondered – if only I had not walked into her room. If I had just left my life to the unknown – to let what was meant to happen just be.
In my attempt to run from fate and cheat death, I ran from living.
There may be a life written for me where I experience every single one of these traumas; each worse than the other. We all may at some point and will. But we can’t live our lives waiting for the worst possible version to manifest… desperately looking for an oasis in a sad and desolate desert.
I believe that the biggest lie our parents have always told us is that life is going to be easy. Every day, we are thrown into the oblivion of the world, beaten by life’s punches coming from the most unanticipated places. But life isn’t supposed to be easy; we just need to learn to maneuver through it or more simply, learn to dodge those unexpected punches.
As I arrived at the location she had sent, I began to stare at her blue door, and what a peculiar shade of blue it was: not too bright, not too somber, just the perfect balance between light and darkness. The crevices of the door were scratched and ostensibly moldy. It was as though she had painted over the crime scene with a coat of smelly paint. The handle however was a particular shade of gold, she wanted you to notice the golden handle in an attempt to mask the rest of the entrance.
Tuning into an innermost gut feeling, I thought to myself: Something doesn’t feel right.
Still, I had no answers to my mind’s incessant ponderings. But with pure intention and ironically, a sense of utter ease, I decided to simply go back home; after all, my 21st birthday was coming up soon.