Her strength gives us hope. Her beauty lets us dream of a time when we, too, will be more than the hurts that seek to define us.

Our apartment is in Saifi Village, an upscale neighborhood, but we see no reason not to indulge. Following Areum’s words, Valentina stirs. She walks over to Paheli and pulls one lock of her hair. Paheli promptly slides down the chair she was hanging from and onto the floor. She opens her eyes.

“If you have finished being a monkey, we would like to go exchange diamonds for money. Some of us want to do more than just sit in one place letting the moss grow.” Valentina has a bite. The gold tips of her black hair are the exact shade of her eyes. She’s the tallest amongst us. She weaponizes her height against us and looks down her nose at us with a flair none of us have yet been able to match.

Paheli raises a hand and gestures, lazily, to the door. “By all means, go.”

“We won’t go without you,” Valentina replies. “You know that.”

“Why not?” That’s the question, isn’t it? Have you wondered too? Why do we stick to Paheli? To each other? It took us a long time to understand why we insist on a sisterhood when the language we speak most fluently is pain, and pain usually insists on solitude.

The reason is simple. We see ourselves reflected in each other’s eyes, and we are reassured of our existence in worlds that turn unfamiliar with the passing of the years. We anchor each other, if not in time then in existence.

“Because,” Valentina replies evenly, with a steely look. Paheli sighs and gets to her feet. Apparently, that is answer enough.

We take to the streets dressed in colorful outfits. All of us, yes, every single one of us, are devotees to sartorial splendor. We take pleasure in putting together outfits that are bursts of color. Tassels? Oh yes. Sparkles? Of course. We wear glitter on our faces and flowers in our hair. Even bees sometimes look to us for dew.

We construct ourselves daily in different types of clothes and brilliant daubs of makeup. We have become so skilled at putting our outer selves together that the cracks in us are barely visible.

Our first destination today is an antiques store located on Hamra Street. We take our time walking there; so many things demand our attention along the way. Some buildings in Beirut display their battle scars with a grim grace while others have new facades to help them face the future. Arched balconies spill over with greenery dotted by multihued flowers.