LOVING Aman | ✓

26

He realized too late; she was his life and the death of him.

-Sweet_Sultana

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|Letter 10|

Dear Mukhtar,

           It's cold again; the harmattan breeze is here. And I miss you still.

         I'm guessing it's the breeze but we both know it's not. I, however, couldn't help but feel your warmth within its defiance and your essence in its unfolding mystery. For like the breeze, you too were strong, resilient, and yet...fleeting. And yet you both lingered in my memories. However, memories, I've come to know, is a double-edged sword and a mistress of its own. It gave me hope and it gave me pain but mostly, it gave me nothing.

             Which is all strange. Why? Because I thought I had all the answers figured out or at least I knew the questions; or so I thought. However right now, I don't know anymore. I seem to have gotten even more confused

         "Why weren't you curious about me? What I want, what I want to do, why didn't you care?"

         There were days I wanted to scream out these questions, scream very loud with the hope that someone, anyone, might feel the pain behind those words. But in the end, I never did. Do you know why? Because my anyone and someone was always you.

           Yes, I've loved you ever since I watched you stare unrepentant at Zaid after you'd protected me.

        And yes, I saw it all, or atleast most of it. I, however, filled the spaces with Zaid's outbursts and your narrative.

"What are you?" Zaid punched you hard across the face as soon as you were close enough. "And what gave you the right to do that?" Punching you again "She's my sister, you hear me? My sister!" The others ran towards you, holding him back.

You wiped off the blood on your mouth. You probably didn't know why you did that too. I guess you just felt like you should and you did it anyway. There was however no profound reason for your actions, just common human sympathy, I know now. And maybe the fact that you were sick and tired of Zaid's fiery temper and sick lame jokes. The whole torture thing seemed a bit juvenile. That was what you had told me anyway.

You looked over at Zaid, who was still struggling to free his held hands, still seething with rage and you knew you won't apologize, you didn't want to! You weren't wrong, Zaid was, and if he was going to let this stupid game come between your friendship, then so be it, you didn't need a cruel, dictator for a friend anyway. Those were your thoughts,  atleast the ones you told me.

"Let me go," Zaid had said between gritted teeth, as he struggled to be let free. You looked at Charles and Faisal, who were restraining him and nodded for them to let him go. There was no need for the restraints anymore, you could see the fire in his eyes had burned out.

"Stay the hell away from me." He yelled, pointing at you. As he turned and began walking away, the others followed behind him, each sparing you an apologetic look.

You hissed and ran your hands over your face. You couldn't help but feel guilty even though you knew his method was wrong, but you also knew Zaid, there is nothing that would have made him seen reason. His temper wouldn't let him. No, that was the best way to create impact, protecting me against him.