This past September marks ten years spent in Lebanon.
This is both hardly enough time and far too long.
Hardly enough time to truly feel a sense of belonging.
And far too long to spend in the place of one’s birth without finding familial roots.
The more one attempts connection to place the harder becomes disconnection from family.
They go hand in hand.
I’m at my limit for being able to stand this, frankly.
Especially when I know that at any given time I am talking to someone just a few steps removed from me on the Lebanese genealogical tree.
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