It didn't take long for us to admit that we were desperately, painfully in love with one another. The painfully part was a result of the knowledge that we would not be able to have a life together. She told me that her family would most likely not approve of her relationship with me -- for reasons that I won't go into here, but also for reasons known only to the unfathomable Iranian mindset and culture. They were socially liberal compared to other Iranians, but they weren't socially liberal compared to Americans. She was practically a feminist in her approach to politics and career, but she was almost primitive in her beliefs when it came to respecting the wishes of her parents, even when it was contrary to her own well being and happiness. They told her that she had responsibilities and obligations that outweighed her own needs and desires in life. In spite of the terrible effects this had on her (and even more so on me because my fate rested in her hands), she told me she would most likely follow their wishes, even if it killed her -- and even if it killed me.
February 12, 1986:
Every weekday afternoon since October, without fail, we had a ninety-minute conversation on the phone. Today, however, I had to stay in the library to study for much longer than usual, so we couldn't have our usual daily visit. Eventually, I couldn't stand it any longer, so I called her from a pay phone at the college. She was just ridiculously happy to hear from me. This evening in the library, as we sat at separate tables, she thanked me in a note. I have left her own spelling in the note because it adds to her personality (by the time she had arrived in the U.S., she already had a master's degree in two subject areas -- she is a bit older than I -- but she voluntarily enrolled in high school here in order to learn English).
Her note: "I love you. I love you. I love you for calling today. Now I know that you were going through the same pain as I was in. I realy don't know if I'll be able to live without you. You surrounded me with yourself, with your love, with your thoughts, and even with your notes (writings). There is no way that I be able to come out of this prison [of love], and I am not sure if I want it to. I am sitting here looking in my book and thinking about you, and I can feel that how much I need you. And then I look at you (sitting in the other table) to be sure that you exist and you are not only in my head. I look at you carefuly to realize if he is the one that my heart beating for. Or he is the one that occupying all my heart and brain. That small tiny young boy with a big smile always in his face for me!
"When my sister was telling me that how different we two are, and I will see these differences on time, I almost accepted her. That time I thought maybe I am really fulling [fooling] myself with being in love with you. But the things is like from the beginning which I didn't had any control on my feeling. I still don't have any control to see any differences or any false [faults] about you. And even if I see them I still don't have any control on not loving you because of them. I love you the way you are with you strengths and with your weaknesses, with your beuties and with you false. You are going to be mine and only mine one day.
"I love you forever."
