THE DAWN OF
SUNSETS
I GirlStoryMag.com • 2020-2021
52
t seems that change has become our new constant, uncertainty our new reality. Never had I thought that such basic things would be taken away from us. From the day we are born, the first show of affection comes from a kiss, a hug, a smile; those aspects are integral to our communal identity as humans. They seemed to be something so rooted in society that nothing had the power to take them away. And then the storm came. Now the only opportunity I get to appreciate the wind on my face, the rustling leaves, the dewdrops on the flower petals, is when I walk my dog. As I continue along the never-changing route, a man runs past me, also enjoying the taste of normality that the outside provides. I smile, but strangely, I get no response. On the other side of the street, I spot a fellow classmate and smile, yet once again, I receive the same eerie stillness as a response. My face
became a sauna, with the protective mask trapping all of the heat and bringing out the sticky sweat. Suddenly, as I wiggle my face to ease the itchiness, I feel my eyes crinkling, and it hits me. My smile was hidden. The salutatory gesture that I used as a simple show of compassion seemed to be trapped behind bars, prisoner to the invisible beast that put the world to a halt. I had never reflected upon the power of a smile, what it communicates, how it connects us to others and makes our community tighter. Now, we are only left with the shadow of a smile, our scrunched eyes. We hope it is enough to show people around us we care, we are present, and we wish we could say our usual hellos with a smile. They say that eyes are the gateway to the soul, but I have realized that smiles are the keys that truly open that tunnel. I am proud to consider myself a veteran of change. Having lived in five countries and moving on to my sixth, change is familiar—at least I thought it was. Joining a call with my friends, I
am met with suspicious silence and cryptic looks. “What’s wrong?” I ask, waiting to uncover the joke that was undoubtedly the foundation of my friends’ strange gazes. “I’m leaving,” my friend says. Out of our closely-knit group of three, two of us were moving to different countries at the same time. Confused, I respond, “Yeah, I know. Are you starting to feel the ‘ending’ jitters?” “No, you don’t get it,” she retorts. “I’m leaving in two weeks.” The same silence I was greeted with now takes over once again. “My parents bought the first airplane ticket they could find. We don’t know when they are going to close international borders, and we can’t risk being stuck here.” I remember earlier that day the interminable phone calls my parents made, trying to figure out a way to get to our next destination. Moving had always been a challenge. However, it had never been such an intricate puzzle in which one had to strategically place the pieces