أمانة

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

SubhanaAllah. I wish it were possible for me to write always of happiness and things to brighten one's skies, consistently uplifting and positively reminding. Maybe my only reason for that would be to ensure that there was never any instance where my words brought about her pain or harm or made things at all more difficult. Often have I thought about how she may have felt at seeing some sadness or low point in what I wrote. The agony of that consideration is among the heaviest things I have ever known. To conceive of harming my mirror, whom I would seek most strongly to shield, is worse than the worst self-inflicted pain, for pain to the self is easily bearable, but when it reaches that part of my being...what then? When the one intending to protect becomes a mechanism to inflict instead? 

For this, I can ask only to be forgiven.

I know my Rabb set this trial for us both, and for my part, the trial of knowing her is an unrivalled gift from Him, something immensely beautiful in how perfectly suited to me it is, how excellent of a test for my nature. I choose it, have chosen it, would always accept it, despite everything. Imagine the result if He helps me pass? I succeed not only in temporal terms, but for life everlasting itself. I could not ask for a means to His mercy more custom-tailored to me, more endearing both for what it is and where I'd seek it manifest than that.

But what of her trial in knowing me? Is it worth it for her? A price that could only be paid in sabr and tawakkul, of being content with how this life shapes out to be - while giving every effort that it deserves, this is no small thing. Though I could never affirm my own worth - only Allah is fit for doing so - it is true that this is partly why my goal resides in Firdaus, wherein culminate the ideal, the dream, love.

I can fathom nothing more worthwhile.

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even as the path ahead becomes ever more clear, defined, no day and night pass without without remembering that my star still shines apart from me. it is how it should be, i have no lament, but what's missing from within will always call back to its own. 

oh Allah, to You i entrust, my most precious piece, the key to my puzzle, the color of my blood, wherein resides all of me. 

oh Allah, take its best of care, keeping safe from Your displeasure, inside the vastness of Your mercy, along with its own surrender. 

oh Allah, You made it what it is, and from what it's now without, i beg You hold it always close, so Us again one day we've found.

 

Ameen