Lost

I’m starting this writing with zero things in mind. I only have these feelings, though it’s faded as I put the music away from my ears. Coming back to reality, it doesn’t seem to matter. But it’s not something that I can escape. Because it is, too, a part of my reality.

Is it my insecurity, or my guts? Which of those two that told me?

I’m struggling to be comfortable saying ‘no’ and doing something that, in my judgement, is better for myself. The feeling of being judged is driving me insane. But it’s something that we can’t escape, can we?

The feeling is overwhelmed that often, it’s my tears that do the talking instead of my mouth or hands. I want writing to be my therapy, but at times I couldn’t get it translated by any word or letter. It just, is.

I keep asking myself, who am I doing this for? Because deep down, I know it’s not for me. It’s not because of myself, but others. It’s always been like that. The selfless nature that I thought is dead, is actually eternal and making me conflicted. I’m standing in the middle of trying to love myself and being a kind person for others. The latter seems to be my tendency but, sometimes it’s pointless. It’s making me view myself as this naïve, foolish little girl, who doesn’t know the dark side of the world.

“In the end, fools change the world,” – BTS

Their words made me rethink. Right now, every hint dropped is telling how my decision is wrong.

But my heart doesn’t want it. For some reasons I don’t understand, it refuses.

For somebody who likes math and rarely understands arts, it’s an odd decision to follow your heart. But somehow the feelings it produces, is making me go against my logic.

I said I needed a break, but honest to be said I just want to quit. Again, the only reason that’s preventing me from being honest is their judgement. I’m scared of their judgement.

Who am I doing this for? Them, or myself?

Talk To Me

Numb.

That’s the only word that could picture what I felt in that moment. My routine was done and it was time to call it a night. I should feel calm. But all I felt was empty. I sat there for a few more moments, my mind tracking back to the past remembering all of my mistakes, all of my sins. I felt guilty – or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me. I still felt mostly nothing.

‘O Allah, do I still have a heart?’ I asked quietly.

The room was dark. It was 3 am in the morning and I was still sitting on my prayer mat, wondering.

These last few weeks weren’t good. Over time, I felt myself less caring about things I should’ve cared about. My performance was terrible. Answers that I thought I’d found, were unnecessarily doubted again. And I wasn’t sure if it was because of me, or my enemy.

‘I’ve tried doing my duty as Your servant, after months of failing, I’ve successfully doing it tonight… But why can’t I cry?' my brows creased out of confusion with myself, 'I’m asking for Your forgiveness, o Allah. But why do my eyes refuse to shed even a single tear?’

I felt unease, yet it wasn’t enough to let me wept. Eventually, I gave up. I took my hijab off and started to lie on my bed.

‘Do You hate me?’ my little heart asked, ‘Are my sins too many, that I literally can’t feel anything while having a special moment with You?’ I closed my eyes, ‘Maybe I’m indeed nobody – whether it’s among humans, or with You,’

And with the questions still in mind, I fell asleep.

**

“And so today, I wanna share about surah ad-Dhuha,” she started, “Do you know when this surah was revealed?” she asked me. It was only two of us there.

I nodded, “During the year when Prophet Muhammad was the saddest. He lost his beloved ones – Siti Khadijah his wife, and his uncle, Abu Talib, in the same year,”

“Correct. It was recorded that the gap between this surah and the one before it was around 2 to 4 weeks,” she stated, “Imagine being told that you’re chosen as the leader, but instructions were lost for like a month, what would you feel?”

“Lost,” I answered the first thing in my mind.

She smiled as an agreement, “And miserable,” she added.

I guess just like how I felt to be chosen on this path of truth but one long gap and suddenly I didn’t know how to use my heart anymore. That is, if I still have one.

After a few more introduction, we finally went through each verses. She recited the Arabic till the end of the surah first and I would continue by reading the translations. Listening to her recitation, I tried to remember how long I’d left one of my routines, which included this surah. It used to be one of my favourites. Now I didn’t even remember when was the last time I recited it.

She’d done. It was my turn for the translation. I started with bismillah, then verse 1, verse 2… My voice was almost cut after I read verse 3.

“And Your God don’t hate you, nor He ever leave you,”

I stared at the verse for what seemed like forever. It took me a few minutes to compose myself and finally continue reading.

..

After the meet up, I thought about everything that happened in the last few hours. Maybe, just maybe, He wanted to see more effort from me. It wasn’t hate. It’s just a phase. The one where you should start to find that feeling while try to not being deceived by the enemy who told you to stop because apparently you’re not worth it.

He legit answered you that He don’t hate you. If that isn’t enough for a sign, I don’t know what is.

My heart was at peace again. I still needed to strive harder, though.