Sisters! If you ever get caught up in a relationship that didn't work out towards marriage or in fact never was any sort of relationship at all, and you feel like you'll always love the man...it's not necessarily true! Allah (swt) can act through His agent, life, and you may come to see things very differently in time. Life circumstance may change, or you may just mature. I wrote this about MTQ almost 7 years ago to the day. I had no idea that I'd barely think of this man, 7 years later, except if talking about the anthology. I had no idea I'd rename him Sadiq and publish this story for the whole world to see. I had no idea.
If I can get over a man once loved, so can you! If I got over one once, I can do it again. And you'll come out better women on the other end, I tell you.
Same for you, too, brothers who have loved!
I found this because I suddenly remembered MQ awkwardly asking me, as we hung out at his friend's house after our first not-date, if autoimmune disease ran in my family, because it seemed to run in his. What was probably an innocent question from a premed student who wondered if autoimmune diseases ran in families turned into me wondering if he was asking as if looking at me as a potential spouse. His friend, who he probably just wanted me to get to know, turned into a chaperone so that we wouldn't spend time outside of a public place alone, and at 19 and having not really ever dated before, yeah, that was confusing.
I just remembered that...I hadn't thought about that interchange in years. Here is an entry during my sophomore year, and I believed I still loved him. This is from my personal journal:
Saturday, March 12, 2005 • I Still Love Him
I still love him. I know I do, because I still get that silly little feeling in my gut when I think about warm weather and my looking forward to seeing him, and my hanging on his every word, my counting on our awkward, one minute conversations.
I know I still love him, because I saw him this Tuesday, going to his class, and he said hello. And I said hello, and we talked as we used to. And it left me with the same glowing feeling, and I hoped my face didn’t show it, but that maybe I transferred vibrations so that he could feel the same way too…again.
And sometimes I just go through my journal, and look for the mention of the little moments we shared. And I look for the place where I first liked him, back when I didn’t know I liked him, but I did. And then when I realized that he was Muslim, and I freaked out. And that one day in SSG that he was kind of flirty, I think…I don’t know, but I had a good time, we had a good time, just me and him…and Jessica remembers that I should remember him…
And I just feel light…and this is probably why I am warm right now, just thinking about him, and what I thought I had with him, and what I want to share with him…everything about me, and the rest of my life…and how I want to be everything that he wants out of me, and I want to give everything he wants to need from me, and more that he would have wanted if he knew it could exist.
And he saw me, and spoke, and it was like…old times. I realize now that I had my hood on, so he couldn’t see my hair, as my theory was that he estranged himself after my hair changed, but no. He first spoke to me when I didn’t have that much hair…so that must not have been it. I don’t know what is up or down anymore, I just know that he spoke, and I knew he hadn’t written me off. He’s studying for the MCATs, and he said he was going to kill himself, and I told him not to…and I wanted to add, “Just for me,” but I wasn’t so swift. And I had to turn my back and grin widely.
I still remember all of the things that he said to me. From asking about the history of autoimmune disease in my family to saying that they didn’t teach what to say after a kiss in Organic Chemistry while watching Office. And saying that he laughed the hardest he ever had in his life when he heard my mole day story, to telling me “Tu es mi amiga, Chinyere.” Even though the Spanish was off. And telling me all of the jokes…to cheer me up and make me feel better. And knowing what I was doing, because he had read my away message…and reading my journal…
And of course my favorite, “I’m gonna miss you, Chinyere.” Even though he butchered my name, I wonder if he knew I was giggling because I liked him so much.
I still love him. I know I always will, but somehow I’m okay with that. I think I’m fine with that because I realize that he will always be a beautiful human being to me, and I’ll always feel like I could have been something great to him, as long as he accepts…because I would. I will love him and everything is fine, and remembering that feeling is much greater than waiting for it to return…
And the most telling part of this all is...I didn't remember most of this, I didn't remember how this felt. I take my own word for it, but I'm as moved on as they come. I'm grateful for having lived this experience for so many reasons...mostly that it helped me gain my first publication and was the muse for my first completed novel as an adult, whether I publish or not. It also taught me about characteristics I actually do want in a mate, even though they weren't really in this poor brother.
It reminded me when my ex hurt me that I had once known a greater love. It was an invigorating love that I can remember faintly and even still know, through pain, that my life is not over.
So no, I did not always love him. I do not love him. And for all other hims that will come and go within my life, without staying, except for those who pass on to the Hereafter by God's leave...I will not always love him.
And so can you!