27/05/2026
My dearest Exode,
Fifteen years ago today, I named you.
Back then, I thought of you, prepared myself for you, educated myself, used every available tool to gain the ability to make of you the story; and of myself, the storyteller.
Not knowing that you were my storyteller all along, the mirror of my story, waiting to unfold, 15 years later..
Remember.
It was so clear, so right, so alive; as if dictated.
As if it had already been written somewhere, waiting for me only to read it and say it out loud: "Exode".
Fifteen years ago..
And today, my sweet gallery "Mignon" I believe you have said all there is to say.
And today, Fifteen years later, there is nothing left to be said.. so say no more.
It is time.
And like the Fairouz song says: "Always, in the end... there is an ending" (Deyman bil 2akhir, fi akhir")
It is Time for you to say no more.
No more looking back at a CV well written - very well written..
At a journey through a space that evolved into a home.
At a journey of strangers who became close enough to become family
At a journey of venture that expanded into purpose
No more looking back at passing years - years some may describe as lost.
At missing the tailoring and crafting of success stories.
At missing people - my people - who left my sight.
At missing chapters closed, and even better, archived.
No more looking around the corners of my world and finding not even myself there anymore.
The blast of my Beirut removed all the fingerprints that once remained hidden.. Fingerprints..
What are walls and floors without the presence, the voices and the laughter?
And I stand alone in the middle of it all,
in the center of a busy street, yet inside my lonely desert.
In the valley of the shadow of death..
My Yolande, my Zohrab, My Elias, my Samir.. And the list is long.. my Wajih, my Josee, my Toni.. And the list is even longer..
I miss you guys, I miss my mentors and my friends. I miss my family. I miss my people.
No more.
Exode was the storyteller of my story, and it ends Here, in the now fifteen years later.
Life taught me to give, because Life gave me so much: a home, a family and a purpose.
And most importantly, to give until there is nothing left to give, except to give up: to give my fear, my pain, my sadness...and to forgive.
Life also taught me to get, because Life managed to get back everything that once made my heart beat, my lungs breathe, and my mind hope.
And most importantly, to get what is meant, what is left, what is best... and the rest, to forget.
Just for you to know, it is not the same without you.
I give u up as a prayer to get up.
Remember the way home.
Give..Up
Get.. Up
Remember
Forgive and forget..
Still forget me not.
It is Time for Exode to fulfill his calling ..and Exode.
"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." John 15:13
Thank you for dying on my behalf. Forever grateful for His ultimate sacrifice.
Till we meet at the station to a better world..
A yellow station called ER.
To Disciple Number 12
To My Twin 21
To my people - the ones who didn't replace me at the first wind blow, the ones who stayed close when I was a sinking ship, the ones who never failed to make time for me.
To the Glory of Our Lord..
We raise our "Just Be"..
See you on the other side.
Chrys
