I love Beirut. And I love you, too.

Three days after the apocalypse, they took their children by the hand to proclaim life.

6:09 pm. Starbucks (Mtayleb) is 9 km bird’s fly from ground zero. The explosion shook people on the terrace and blew the doors open. One week later sitting at the same table…

I love landing at the airport, the man with the bouquet, mama’s happy tears…
And half-broken carts.
I love pompous police officers, double parking, suitcases in trunks…
And home.

And I love you, too.

I love cluttered rooftops, colorful houses, Achrafieh apartments…
And the city stairs.
I love Gemmayze cafes, Mar Mikhael bars, rooftop nightclubs…
And the port.

I love the St. George Hotel, Beirut Souks, Martyrs’ square…
And Ras Beirut.
I love Medawar, Rmeil, Minet ElHosn…
And Saifi.

I love the call to prayer, church bells, Gregorian chants…
And Jesus.
I love the Khalwa, the Hussainiya, an open synagogue…
And Maryam.

I love Zokak elBlat, Bachourah, Mousseitbeh…
And Mazraa.

And I love Tripoli, too.

I love Bourj Hammoud basturma, Falafel, Chicken with wToum…
And Coke.
I love loud dining tables, jazzy coffee shops, burgers off the street…
And Bonjus.

I love fresh-smelling man2oushe, foul and hommos, eggplant fatteh…
And balila.
I love fattoush, fried bizri fish, lots of tarator…
And arak.

I love Bdadoun green almonds, Baksinta cherries, Deir Mimas olives…
And labneh.
I love Damour bananas, Tyr oranges, Maghdousheh grapes…
And persimmons.

I love afandi flavor, ashta flavor, rose flavor…
And toot.

And I love ice cream, too.

I love an honorable fight, women standing up to thugs, men walking tall…
And hope.
I love standing for something, chanting together, sisters-in-arms,
And bandanas.

I love shoulder-to-shoulder, gigantic hearts, soiled hands…
And hugs.
I love storming the high castle, tear gas, getting beaten…
And continue.

I love all who love you, your sterile leaders, your ousted rulers…
And your enemies.
I love heroic parents, a wounded mom, a giant-of-a-father…
And Alexandra.

I love Marcel pissed off, Kobeissi on a roll, Roy’s videos,
And Nawal.

And I love Anthony, too.

I love it when youth take charge, when countries help us, when you extend kind words…
And cry.
I love it when you carry your shovel, you sweep with your broom, you cover an elder…
And pray.

I love it when you clean my wounds, take me in an ambulance, stand with me at a grave…
And be.
I love first responders, firefighters, paramedics…
And Macron.

I love you Beirut, I love your people, I love your wounds…
And all the ones who came to your rescue.
I love you mourning, I love you healing, I love you rising…
And your laughter, too.

And you? You… Especially you. I love you, too.

I love Beirut. Heart of Lebanon.

• arak, balila, basturma, bizri, hommos, fatteh, fattoush, foul, labneh, tarator: Part of the yummy Lebanese mezze.

• afandi: mandarine.

• ashta: sugar apple.

• Bonjus: That artificially-flavored juice every Lebanese kid had.

• janarek: Tangy, refreshing, crunchy green plums, best consumed fresh with a pinch of salt.

• man2oushe: You’d just have to try it.

• wToum: World-renowned garlic paste, served in a charcoal-grilled chicken sandwich.

• toot: A kind of berries.

• Alexandra: Her story broke my heart.

• Anthony Rahayel

• Marcel Ghanem

• Nawal Berri

• Riad Kobeissi

• Roy Keyrouz

For the family whose picture I used in this story. There was no way to track you down for permission. If this article reaches you and you don’t approve, just let me know. You are an inspiration to all of us.