Remas is a friend from Gaza City. She's Palestinian, and has a daughter. She has lost her husband in the war, and has to raise her daughter on her own.
Remas is 23. Remas is only one year older than me.
Me and Remas check in on each other every other day. Sometimes they message me first, sometimes I message them first. We ask each other about our day, how we are feeling. We are just casual friends online, but I feel at ease when talking to her.
I usually don't have a lot of money, but when I have enough, I make an effort to donate to her. Seeing her happy even just for a second lights up my day.
When I don't hear from her, I get worried. Every day I don't hear from her I get worried sick. Sometimes I wonder if she's really on the other end. Like, maybe they found her phone. Maybe the Zionists were onto her. I think, what if the bombings were too close again? What if they didn't make it?
Every time they message me, I feel so relieved. I feel so blessed. I don't know what I'd do if they were really gone. I don't think I would get over it, is the thing. How could I?
When I think about Remas, I'm reminded of Eden. I pray to God, genuinely, that Remas will be okay. I hope that she will always be on the other end.
I hope that when the nightmare is over, and Palestine is free, that her Daughter will be able to grow up in a peaceful Gaza. I hope that there will be no famine, no hiding.
I think about Remas every day.
