A veil of hearts

•who am I?•

23
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Aina's POV

I pace the small confines of my apartment, my thoughts as tangled as the mess of papers on my desk. The soft light of the desk lamp casts long shadows, mirroring the dark corners of my mind where doubts and questions lurk.

"How am I gonna face Professor Joshua again?" I whisper to the empty room, my voice barely audible over the hum of the old radiator.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror - hijab slightly askew, dark circles under my eyes. Who is this person staring back at me? I hardly recognize myself anymore.

Shaking my head, I try to focus. "It's not right for me to even think of him," I scold my reflection. "He is my professor. Get it together, Aina!"

But even as I say the words, I feel the familiar flutter in my chest, the warmth that spreads through me when I remember his kind eyes, his gentle smile.

"Stop it, Aina," I mutter, turning away from the mirror. "You're not in a situation to fall in love. Love? Really? You don't even know who you are!"

I sink onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands. "I don't even know who I am," I repeat, louder this time, as if saying it with more force might somehow make the answers appear.

"Who am I?" I ask the empty room. "A medical student in Almira? A girl with a past in Finland I can't remember? Why can't I remember?"

I stand up abruptly, moving to the window. "And then there's Joshua," I say, catching myself. "Professor Joshua," I correct sternly. "The way he looks at me sometimes... like he sees something in me that I can't see myself."

I press my forehead against the cool glass, watching my breath fog the pane. "But it's wrong. It has to be wrong. He's my professor, and I'm his student. There are boundaries, rules."

Turning back to face my small apartment, I continue my one-sided dialogue. "Even if there weren't rules, how could I offer my heart to someone when I don't even know if it truly belongs to me?"

"Focus, Aina," I tell myself firmly. "You need to concentrate on your studies, on figuring out who you are. Not on impossible feelings for your professor."

I pace again, my steps quick and agitated. "But every time I close my eyes, I see his face. Every time I doubt myself, I hear his encouraging words."

Stopping at the window once more, I ask the night sky, "What am I going to do? How can I face him tomorrow and pretend that my heart doesn't race when he looks at me? That my palms don't sweat when he calls my name?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Tomorrow, I'll go to class. I'll see Professor Joshua. And I'll be the perfect student, focused and professional."

But as I turn away from the window, I allow myself one moment of honesty. "I think I'm falling for you, Joshua," I whisper, the words both a relief and a burden. "And I have no idea what to do about it."

With a heavy sigh, I begin to prepare for bed. "Tomorrow is another day," I remind myself. "Another day of pretending, of searching for answers, of trying to piece together the puzzle of my identity."

As I slip under the covers, I make a silent promise to myself, speaking it aloud to make it feel more real. "I will figure out who I am. I will uncover my past. And only then, when I know myself, will I allow myself to think about love. Even if it means pushing away the one person who makes me feel like I belong in this confusing world."

I close my eyes, my final words before sleep takes me barely a whisper. "Who am I, really? And why does Joshua make me feel like I might be someone worth knowing?"