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In memory of all the lives cut short by war, in El Salvador and across the globe
Any historical narrative is a particular bundle of silences. —Michel Rolph-Trouillot, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History
When we return to our ancient land that we never knew and we talk of all those things that never happened we will walk holding children by the hand who have never existed we’ll listen to their voices and live that life we spoke of so often but have never lived —Daisy Zamora, “When We Return”
Love formed in opposition to the ugliness and injustice of their lives. It felt freeing, like an act of resistance.
But would tethering oneself to a cause, instead of a soul, tempt the thread to snap?
Whether in small ways, as being talked over in lecture, or large, as the migrants being tear-gassed at the border, the world tried crushing her daily.
“Everyone thinks they’re untouchable until something bad happens.”
THE FUTURE SPLITS INTO POSTWAR OR POST-REVOLUTION, DIFFERENT DEAD IN EACH HALF BUT LOST LIVES LINING EACH EDGE ANYWAY.
The letters are architectural in the revolutionaries’ love.
It’s a sort of magic, she thought, to come so close without causing damage.
“Corruption doesn’t have a political party,”
A lack of affiliation is no guarantee of salvation.
MIGRATION IS NOT SALVATION, BUT THEY TRY. THEY TRY TO FORGET WHAT THEY LEFT BEHIND. THEY TRY TO REMEMBER WHAT THE NATION SMELLED LIKE BEFORE THE CHARRED AROMA OF WAR DESCENDED. THEY TRY AND TRY AND TRY.
A LITTLE PIECE OF ADVICE. NO ONE IS GOING TO HAND YOU WHAT YOU’RE OWED, EVEN IF YOU ASK NICELY. BE A MEAN SON OF A BITCH AND DEMAND WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY YOURS.
Political consciousness starts with awareness, his father had once said.
Stability is too easily confused with love.
Leaving a place didn’t make it disappear—it haunted, calling their mothers back. Is this what he was considering now? The injustice that entire countries were corralled off for nothing more than the sake of cruelty? An embargo, a border, an excuse to deprive others of beauty.
“I didn’t want to face it,” Luis said. “That whoever I was when I was with you will no longer exist. I’ll have to learn to be okay alone.”
“People find joy among all the difficult parts of life.”
“This universe is the only one that matters. Everything else is theoretical.”
If one spent a whole life—full of death, poverty, pain—simply awaiting a promised future, was that even a life? Living for posthumous salvation didn’t feel like freedom at all.
Anger lives in the shadow of love.
The years might have warped the shape or shade of their faces, but it doesn’t matter. Nostalgia hides the changes.
“There’s nothing left for me there. Ghosts and empty places, that’s all I’ll find.”
“If there’s even a chance of recovering the past, we have a moral responsibility to try, even when it means grasping for the loose threads of history.”
guidelines were merely gentle suggestions for those with enough power.
A WAR IS WON ON TWO FRONTS, AND ONLY ONE TAKES PLACE ON A BATTLEFIELD. PICK UP THE GUN, THEN PICK UP A BOOK. YOU’LL NEED BOTH.
“Give it time. Everything that needs to be said will be.”
Love doesn’t erase all the hurt.”
TO STOP A CHILD DREAMING, YOU FILL THEIR HEADS WITH NIGHTMARES. AND THIS IS WHAT THE GOVERNMENT DOES. IT FINDS WAYS TO TEACH ITS CHILDREN THAT FEAR IS THE ONLY ABYSS WORTH LOOKING INTO.
“When life feels impossible, I need context,” Ana said. “A reminder that I’m not alone, that someone else has asked what I’m asking myself. It’s why I love history, why I live with one foot in the next room.”
Hiding isn’t sustainable. Living openly is the dream, but won’t that mean facing biting looks and words like my own sister delivered? I won’t be able to work through this sickness and self-hatred in my soul until I can bask in the sun with you.
A love, ours, that can breathe and show its face without hiding. A love, real and tender, that isn’t afraid of the shadows. A love, where pressures that once felt insurmountable are no bigger than anthills. A love, for you. A love, from you to me. Unknown universes spiraling out endlessly from where our bodies touch.
Remember me. Remember that I love you. Remember that I loved the world, even when it hurt me. Remember that I loved you, even when I hurt you and you hurt me. Let the war rage on, but don’t forget me.
