I’ve watched this film a thousand times, searching every frame for a glimpse of your face. Sometimes, it seems like you just left yesterday... other times, it seems like an eternity. After all this time, would we even recognise each other?

I try to imagine what you’ve been through.

Do you remember the holiday we took in Egypt? Do you remember when we sat in that café on the Nile, watching the sun set on the Sahara? I never expected to find such peace, such serenity, so far away from home. I tried to memorise every detail: the apple-scented smoke of a bubbling sheesha pipe, the evening call to prayer. Even then, I knew this serenity couldn’t last.

I look at this young man, and try to imagine you sharing a glass of mint tea with him, in some dusty café on the Euphrates. Maybe he was once your friend. Maybe he’s now your enemy. Maybe he’s already dead.

I can hardly remember your face anymore.

Did you ever fulfill your dream, and finally visit the Holy Land? Did you go to Jerusalem, and pray for your brother?

It seems like this war keeps happening, again and again. Maybe it never really ends.