I have butterflies in my tummy. I want to say a million things, but my brain is telling me to shut up, so I do. I have a sinking heart, even faster than the titanic and its ridiculous love story.
Everything good I have done unconsciously with you in my mind. I smile in the street when I’m walking – rain or shine, because you are on my mind. The decision to be home is for more time with you, the rest is just a bonus.
And you have said NO. As each day goes by I accept your decision, and then go back two steps. So, I deny myself from actually voicing out what I feel, because it will make it true, then I won’t be able to go back.
I don’t want anyone else. Sadly, no one in my mind will ever measure up to you. This is going to be a mistake, but one I have to admit.
You are all things wrong, yet perfectly right. Wish it would all fall into place like all things meant to be. It’s frustrating to pretend that it’s fine and that I will be okay, like you mean absolutely nothing.
But thank you, for all the good that you have brought to my life. I cherish the moments of tenderness – even as friends. And the nonstop chattering to lighten the silence.
I watch all those lectures about the Islamic way of life and relationships between siblings, family, friends and in marriage, they sound so happy, so peaceful. Then what am I doing with myself? Playing with fire inside my soul.
Time flies. The pain will heal. The tears will stop.
This is my year with you here and me here. And while we are commuting in the opposite direction, the borders of this land are not enough for the prayers I pray for you. Neither is the strongest sandstorm.
I hope Allah SWT will have mercy on me, and by next year I will never see you for a long time. It’s wrong for me, and unfair to you. I never want to tell you those words unless you ask me to.
Emotionally running is tiring. I need to catch my breath. I want to withdraw from this world and build mine alone, far away from you.
Soon… I will fade into darkness.