For the past several months, I have been writing some pieces about relationships. I have been talking to people around me, each with a unique and different story about the joys and pains of love. The result is a series of stories, not all told in my usual story-telling style. I'm not sure how this happened, but when I sat down to do the stories, they each took a different shape, pouring out of me in any which way they chose, it seemed. I'll be showing them to you over the coming weeks. Here's my friend, Haleh's story, the way my heart heard it through her tears: You love someone else, you say I am confused and anguished for having put my guard down Long enough to let you into my heart I so want to be done thinking about you, so I try but It is her I can’t get out of my mind It is not about her looks It is not about her youth It is not about her figure, what has me thinking about For what difference would any of that make for me It is her I can’t get out of my mind, because She can touch the curls in your hair She can swim in the warm brown sea of your eyes She can hold your strong, kind hands in hers She can smell your scent on her pillow, and Look affectionately at your short strands of salt and pepper hair Left behind She won’t have to look at those strands of hair long, or worry about their getting lost as I did Because you, yourself, will be back in her arms soon enough You will let yourself in with a gait to your walk As you go to be with the woman you love And I hope she is good to you, kind and generous As I would have been, could you have given me a chance Had I been lucky enough to have been her.