We came close.. yet our distances never reduced. Our story remained incomplete…
It’s not necessary for the earth to always meet the sky.. True love does not always reach its destination.
There was light and colours – when you were close to me.
This world was my heaven.
And you wrote something like my name in the sand of time.
If there are only heavens here – why can’t I see you?
The moon, the sun.. I see everything here. I have been waiting here for you to appear.. why is our story still so incomplete?
Imagine a banana at the bottom of the fruit bowl that’s started to rot and yet you choose not to throw it away. You carry on buying more fruit, you cover the banana and the fruit bowl looks fresh and colourful.
But you know the banana is still rotting below. And everytime you fear that the rotten banana is going to show, you buy more fresh fruit to cover up the horrid sight.
The longer you leave it, the worse it becomes. It starts to blacken, leaves a horrible smell and maybe even ruin the bowl.
What’s a banana got to do with mentality? It’s exactly the same..
You have an experience you can’t cope with.. what’s the easiest thing to do? Block it out. Do something else. Buy a new car, fancy clothes, flash jewellery.. but that doesn’t help resolve your situation.. it just blocks it out.
And one day when you have to go back to that same situation.. when you have to face everything that you’ve been putting off.. it will hurt so much more. You let it rot in your mind for so long, you’ve exhausted yourself mentally, exhausted yourself by putting so much effort into blocking it out and now it’s even worse than before.
And it hurts like hell.
Your mind is begging for refuge.
Your mind is begging to break free from the trap you’ve locked yourself in.
I am a divorced Muslim girl. I have a label, I am stereotyped, deemed as weak, trash, unwanted. The lower class. The failure. I am a freak show.
I am so open hearted to new people who don’t know my story. Who see my personality, who see my face, who accept me in my present. Who don’t judge me by my past, who don’t label me by my mistakes.
It’s the ones who are supposed to care about me I fear seeing.
I dread having family friends visit. I see them hold back conversations, I see them stare. Some out of pity, some in disgust. Some say a kind word in a low voice, others don’t acknowledge me. I don’t know what’s worse..
As days go by the reality of what’s happened and what is to come, is going to ruin me. I was unwanted for my mistakes which has given me a label. My society will not accept me, my family will not see me past the divorcee label. I don’t have a home where I can be me..
I have so much to prove.. I have so much to put out there before people will forget I’m divorced.
It’s just a label.. it doesn’t define me..