19:16 Thursday 31st July 2025

19:16 Thursday 31st July 2025

It rained today, and I thought of you and that coat you would always wear even inside. I thought about how you would come to school with your hair wet or how you would have a water gun at the ready to mess about with other students or teachers.

I remembered the way you would walk the pathway around my house after school, and I could hear your friend dying of laughter, perhaps at something you said.

You started coming around that pathway a couple of months before you left. I would see you sometimes, and other times would wait to see your face again or hear the excessive laughter, and if not that, then to hear from my little sister that she saw you again.

She didn’t know the boy she had been talking about was the same boy I would smile in thought of. You didn’t know that I lived there, or maybe you did and didn’t want to intrude, but I liked seeing you around there.

I now realize that how much time you spend with someone does not equal love, but rather how much you would spend for someone to be with them.

I want to let go.

To wish you well with someone better.

To be happy for you.

But I’m terrified.

Terrified that someone else might hurt you.

Or worse— that someone else might make you happier than I ever did.

I know it’s selfish.

I thought about how i started writing in the first place and my head went back to that day in English where i was slacking off and our teacher said nothing and you just said “continue writing”, I had stopped writing in the first place out pure respect of you because i kept on rubbing against your arm as I wrote but after you said that i picked up my pen and haven’t stopped writing.

Even if i have nothing interesting to write about i will write be it on paper, google docs or Reedsy studio heck id write on a napkin if it meant that it was all there was, I may have turned and gave you the cold shoulder as the teacher told me off, but i never forgot what you said, I never forgot you.

20:46 Thursday 31st July 2025

No revenge.

Because I still talk about you to my Lord in the last third of the night, in the kitchen, with a drink in my hand, casually yapping about how I saw you that day, like I’m catching up with my truest companion.

No bitterness.

Just me, whispering your name between sips and supplications.

No revenge.

Because I remember the way you blushed when our eyes met for too long— like the moment itself was too honest to hold.

You’d look away, but your ears would betray you, turning that soft pink like they were in on the secret.

No revenge.

Because even the thought of you makes me smile.

Not the kind I force for strangers, but the quiet kind—the one that sneaks up on me when I remember your half-smile, the way it curled just slightly,

Like you were trying not to laugh at your joke.

No revenge.

Because love, real love, doesn’t need to be loud or vindictive.

It lingers.

It softens.

It shows up in the most mundane places— in the steam rising from a mug, in the silence, in the ache that doesn’t ask to be healed.

No revenge.

Because I still carry you in the most sacred parts of my night.

And if that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.”

23:17 Thursday 31st July 2025

I wasn’t born knowing how to understand people.

I had to learn— learn—how to empathize.

I could feel what others felt, but my responses came out cold, like I was solving a problem instead of holding a heart.

I thought I was broken.

But then I saw that same trait in you, and suddenly, trying was enough.

You were enough.

I never believed I’d be with someone for the rest of my life.

Not because I couldn’t love, but because I’d get bored with seeing the same part of someone.

So I’d shift.

Not out of cruelty, but out of fear.

Fear that they’d know me too well.

Fear they’d use that knowledge to hurt me.

I distanced myself from you, afraid my love would be too sharp, too much.

So I loved you from afar.

But even from a distance, you softened me.

You taught me what it means to love gently, to love rightly.

You reminded me of myself when I was younger, trying to understand people, offering solutions instead of comfort.

I changed to fit in.

You showed me I didn’t need to.

I saw you struggle to speak, but I heard the words you couldn’t say.

I answered the questions your silence asked.

And maybe that’s why I loved you.

Because, for once, I didn’t need a script.

I didn’t need to rehearse.

I just knew.

I’ve realized that most people, especially in adolescence, aren’t looking for perfection.

They’re looking for someone who tries.

Someone who meets them where they are.

Someone who doesn’t dismiss their pain as hormones or drama.

You were that for me.

Exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it.

I don’t know which soul group I belong to.

But you make me feel like the pen of Qadr wrote your name beside mine, by the will of Allah.

When I remember you, I understand what Allah meant by the coolness of our eyes.

I look at you, and my thoughts fall silent in awe of how incandescently extraordinary you are.”

I know writing about you three times a day, only hours apart, seems kinda stupid considering I don`t even know if you think about me even once a month or at all. I now know that it doesn't matter if I write about you for a lifetime because you're not even prepared to spend a second on me. I don't need you to, though I will love you regardless