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A hundred weeks later, she still knew nothing.
It was quite whimsical, the way she carried the rose petals in her palms day and night, waiting for them to dry. But they do not, no matter how many layers of wind she covers them with. As soon as she hears the soft drumming of the rain outside, it feels like she has sunk beneath this realm's borders. And there she wonders, was it truly like that from the start?
Rosé had lived, according to her, only a portion of twenty one years. The rest was stolen by a feeling she couldn't help but carry. Sometimes she vowed she'd get rid of it, other times she was afraid she'd lose herself along with it. But she knew nothing of how to secure herself. And so she was suspended, in a trance that soothed her soul.
That was when he arrived, a scrutinising eye evaluating her situation. Perhaps he knew how to dry the petals in her hands?
"Let the days do whatever they wish."
"Who are you? An eloquent speaker?" Her eyes shone in the autumn sunlight.
"I'm your shadow, one who is tired of your futile efforts." He shook his head.
"I did not ask for this feeling." Rosé replied.
"Yet, you are holding on to it." He sighed.
"I've heard too many poems." She dismissed him. "They are never a solution."
"Do you know what Fernando Pessoa said in 'The Book of Disquiet'? — 'I know nothing, and my heart aches.'" He chuckled.
"He is right, why does that happen?" Rosé complained.
"The heart is made to ache. If it does not, are you really human? But let me tell you a secret, it's a liar. It plays games with your mind, letting you believe all it dreams is as easy and simple as it sounds. It leads you into alleyways you'd rather not go down in your sane mind." He explained. "Yet you believe it with every ounce of fibre in your being. You give it so much credit. Love is a fickle, fickle thing, yet so powerful. I sometimes wish we were saved from it."
"You are such a realist—" Rosé started angrily.
"I haven't finished speaking." He interrupted.
"Forget the heart, love is rarely successful when it originates from there. Delve into your mind, the wonderful scaling of good and bad makes much more sense. And it never deceives you. And what's more? Apart from being rational, the mind ties logic in your favour and brings fate into submission. Which is why I always say, love with your mind and the heart will follow. Think with your mind and your heart will never have the upper hand. And what's more? The mind is a master of your heart, it will do exactly what you want it to. After all, you are what you think."
"And if the mind agrees that love is a good idea, then…?"
"Then nothing ever beats the soft drumming of your heart when he says "we". You could listen to that sound all day long with a foolish smile that could change the dried ink of fate — if only there's khair in it." The shadow smiled.
"You're telling me to use my mind when I love someone, so I don't spiral out of control?" Rosé asked.
"Indeed. These petals you are trying to dry will never dry. You are spending so much time looking at them that wilting isn't written for them. So let the wind carry them far. Remove them from your heart and keep them in your mind and du'as. And fate is so strong that two grains of sand in a sandstorm will meet again if they are destined for it."
"The only catch is, we know nothing." Rosé smiled. "And to be honest, I like that better."
"Which is why I said, let the days do whatever they wish." He explained. "Things ultimately lead to victory for those who are patient and for those who make du'a repeatedly."
And then, Rosé realised what a blessing it was to be one who knows nothing.
