Puranay Rastay ✓

chapter ‣ 16

Chapter ‣ 16

I don't remember when I first realized I was in love with Rida. We were woven so deeply into each other's lives, there wasn't a prominent moment where caring for her had transgressed the fine line between someone I was supposed to care about because she was my cousin, neighbor, and family, into caring for her as a woman. It happened, and I realized when I was already in the middle of it.

The day we found out Mamoo's visa had been granted and that the whole family would be going, I felt like my heart had been ripped out. Separation had never loomed on us before, and this sudden loss of her was nearly impossible to grasp.

The drive to school without her? Being in the same campus, same cafeteria without seeing her? Being in the building we called home and not seeing her at the door numerous times a day? Not hearing her Khaled, chili mili lado. Khaled, Cornetto to lay ao please, was unimaginable.

I didn't know how life would go on. But it did. As the days without her increased, I felt like the infatuation I would have for her would fade away, but instead, it only increased. My memories of her became so precious to me, that I refused to forget them. Like a passage to memorize for an exam, I replayed our memories in my head everyday. I looked at her in every sunrise, I thought about her constantly. It was like an extension of me was missing,

It felt like a terminal illness; it never left and it had no cure, only distractions and temporary balms.

There was no way to tell her about my feelings, no need to tell her about my feelings. We were young, mere teenagers, and nothing could be done about this. I respected Mamoo too much to put him in a dilemma, I respected Momani too much to make her choose, I loved Rida too much to make her uneasy. My feelings were my own problem, and I chose to deal with them on my own; burying them deep inside me, knowing well that they were like a burning coal, no matter how deep I buried them, they wouldn't extinguish.

They didn't extinguish when Mamoo and family returned back to Pakistan, they didn't extinguish when I realized how much Rida was out of my league, they didn't extinguish when I made a conscious effort to create distance between us, they didn't extinguish when I myself arranged for her wedding, they didn't extinguish when I watched her leave. They stayed at the bottom of my heart, burning, aching. Her love was turning me into ash, and I was willing to be consumed.

It wasn't that I hadn't tried to move on. Giving Mama the green signal to scout girls for the intention of marriage was a way, it was that I couldn't move on. A mental block rested in my heart, refusing to surrender. It was as if, if I allowed myself to move on, perhaps to someone better, I might lose a part of myself; as if, if I let her go, I would never want her again.

The thought alone scared me. When you had attached so much of yourself to one person, moving on from them was like moving on from yourself, regardless of how painful and detrimental their existence was for you.

As long as she is around me, as long as she's within reach, she'll continue to occupy a space in my heart that should be reserved for someone else. She needs to go, she needs to find her own happiness, which is away from me.

A thought occurred to me, leaving my knees weak. I slid down to the cold concrete floor.

"I will find someone for her," I whispered to myself. I would find someone for her who would love her and care for her and look good with her. Someone she could stand next to and compliment. Someone better than Aqib. Someone who would love her more than me.

My chest ached, but I whispered a sincere prayer, steeling myself for the mission.

bruise after bruise, beating upon beating