Have you ever thought that your childhood crush would be so intoxicating that never give a chance to like anybody else? This is madness right?
This story is about Aliya and her eternal crush, her best friend Tahmeed.
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"You said you do...
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Sabr. Patience.
I seem to lose this trait when it comes to her.
Aliya Emdad - my All, my everything. I tried my best to give her the one thing she needed: peace. I signed the divorce papers thinking it was for the best. Maybe it was.
But I lost my sanity the moment I forced myself to separate her from my name. My heart shattered in a way that words can barely explain.
I tried. I tried to feel content, telling myself it was for her well-being, that I could endure this much. But with each passing day, it became unbearable. I couldn't concentrate at work. During meetings, I'd suddenly drift into memories of her laughs, her cries. She was with me-like my soul, like my breath-but I couldn't see her, touch her, embrace her. At home, I lived only in fragments of our happiness, pieces of her left behind.
When I finally told my mother about our separation the day after I signed the papers, her reaction cut deeper than I could have imagined.
"You must have done something terribly wrong for Aliya to leave you," she said. And she was right.
After that, she stopped speaking to me.
Sarah was heartbroken, filled with guilt over Bilal's deception. But I could never blame my sister; she was betrayed too. Her trust was shattered, and I don't know if she'll ever trust another man again.
Months passed, but my condition only worsened. I stopped going to the company, and my grandfather resumed control of the business. I felt guilty for abandoning it, but I knew that if I stayed, my distraction would only harm the family legacy. Every day, I sat alone in our room, clutching the last remnants of her. I felt suffocated.....so suffocated that I started to wonder if it was worth being on this earth, existing away from her. All I wanted was to see her, just once, to soothe the ache in my chest.
Anaz suggested that I travel, hoping it might clear my mind. So I went to Mecca for Umrah. I prayed for her peace, for every bad memory to fade from her mind. And for myself, I prayed to Allah for sabr.
While I was there, I dreamed of her. She looked sad, her hazel eyes reflecting the same longing I felt as if she was calling me.
That's when I knew-I had to go to her. Just to be close, to breathe the same air. Because this wasn't living; it was barely surviving.
