This is an excerpt from the novel I am working on, as of yet untitled.
The conversation came to a pause… I had never felt such a connection, so at ease and so dangerously in love. “You’re too good to be true.” I told him. I could hear the awe in my voice and yet I did not cringe nor feel any embarrassment -despite the fact that it was so unlike me to be open or affectionate in this way.
His response was a somewhat shy but endearing laugh and he told me that I was perfect for him.
Months gone by and now I look back at that moment and it makes me shudder. A shudder that begins from the cracks of my broken heart and echoes throughout my entire body and soul.
“You’re too good to be true.” I had said. The sick irony at how right I had been. How had that statement not rang alarm bells in my head. How had I chosen to blindly ignore my own statement. He was too good to be true because he hadn’t been true. How much, if any of it had been true, I would never know. That was what hurt the most. Every single aspect of his personality, every word he had uttered to me, everything I thought we had between each other, everything he said he felt for me, everything I thought I felt for him. I had no idea if any of it was real. And that was what I couldn’t move on from. I would never be able to understand why and how he could have done this to me. Not only had he broken my heart; he had messed with my mind, every single thought and every memory.
I could not even get the tiniest grain of closure so how was I supposed to move on, how would I be able to. How could I ever let myself open up or feel something for anyone after this.
I thought he was my soulmate. The saddest thing actually, after everything, a tiny part of me still actually believed that he was my soulmate. Even though we were not together and never could end up together in this life now, I still deep down believed he was my soulmate.
How could I have felt so much and connected so deeply with another soul that wasn’t mine? Then once again I somehow felt numb yet all encompassing pain simultaneously as I reminded myself that it was all lie. Was it all a lie? I went in circles like this more than I cared to realise.
He had truly messed me up. Got under my skin. Into my head. Embedded and engraved on my broken and shattered heart. He had ruined me.
The only time I felt like my life had a future without him in my mind was when I was completely and utterly distracted. But then something would always remind me of him and a memory would hit me like a train. Like a punch in the stomach. It physically hurt me yet there was nothing to see except the pain in my eyes. Sometimes a tear down my cheek.
One evening he had told me that I was his moon. He said he could only see the light of the sun, the light of this life, because I reflected it to him. He even stole the moon from me. I wonder did he think of me when he looked at the moon. I wondered whether he thinks of me when he tells her that he loves her.
Every night I poured my heart out to Allah. That was my solace. I prayed to Allah to remove him from my heart, to take away any attachment I had for him. I prayed to Allah to grant me peace in my heart and to remove the grudge I held. I prayed to Allah to help me to forget and to help me move on. And I still prayed for him.