Now in Egypt, no matter how hard I try to immerse myself in my new life, the memories of my past in Gaza remain raw. The specter of the past six months of war haunts me relentlessly, reminding me of the family I left behind to face the perils of war. The thought of my friends and loved ones brings crippling guilt. I am terrified every time news comes in of a bombing in Gaza. I rush to check on my family, but they cannot always call because of the lack of electricity, and so sometimes I wait hours, even days, for their reply. Physically, I have survived. But emotionally, I am still trapped in the war.
olddogthoughts 