As I try to fit in this world, I realized there are two kinds of people that I like being with: the people who help me become the best version of myself for my own benefit in this world and the ones who mold me into becoming a better Muslim. However, the latter is closer to my heart. I know this for the fact that I haven’t been with them for a while now. And for the whole time that I’m not with them, I feel that my heart had hardened and my faith had weakened.
When one of them recently messaged us about another gathering, that we would have every last Sunday of the month for almost 4 years now, something hit me. Something I cannot explain. But if there was a word near to it, I would describe it as if suddenly my heart had a life. And I know for sure that I haven’t felt like it for a long time now.
For the whole summer, I spent my days working but, it didn’t entirely feel like work. I was with kids and was actually doing something worth-spending my time with. Plus, I got to earn money. I had a chance to share some of it with my family at home, too.
It would be a shame if I wouldn’t admit that sometimes I was absolutely and really happy during those times.
I had a great summer so far. I worked and I enjoyed. However, whenever I got home, there, it would happen again and again. I would become numb or feel a lot at once and I wouldn’t know what to do but to cry because it was the only thing I knew. Even when I pray, I would still cry and ask for help. It was very hard for me.
The people at my work gave me something I couldn’t forget and helped me develop my skills. They were there when I needed a place to go to in this foreign country. They were almost my comfort. Almost. Because they can only provide physical things. They can only show me the light in this world.
Although there were some of them who truly helped me in terms of religious affairs, something was still missing. But I cannot and I won’t blame them. They tried their best. I love them and I am grateful and feel blessed to have met them.
However, the longer I stayed with them, the more I changed. But I wasn’t exactly sure if it was because of their stories or if it was me still trying to find the right kind of medicine for me.
It hurt me to know what some of them were going through and what some of them went through. But I must say that by listening to their stories, I had realized that real life for me had finally opened. They showed me both joy and strength that it felt so heavy for me to bear. They had so much light and so much darkness inside them. I wanted to get drowned and I wanted to be rescued. And their eyes seemed like it needed and wanted the same.
But I, as a person with a fragile and stone-like heart at the same time, couldn’t bear to see the world as is. I needed to rescue myself before it’s too late. I was already drowning inside, in my own ocean of tears, fears, disappointments, and lacks. Howbeit, I wasn’t willing to be rescued at all. It felt good and bad to drown. Good in a way that it would teach me some things. And bad in a way that it would become really hard to get rescued, to get cured. Because once you drowned, even when you’re rescued, sometimes trauma does not go away. They don’t heal instantly. Sometimes you even drown again because of it.
The latter I was talking about above, on the other hand, differs. They don’t rescue you. They need to get rescued themselves, too, but somehow you feel like you’re on the same boat that’s gonna sink any time soon yet, you hold on to each other like a chain. Not like when one gets drowned, everyone gets drowned. But like, when one gets drowned, the one up there holds tightly and never let’s go until you’re all safe. They’re the kind of people you’ll somehow feel secure to be with, in both worlds.
I know it would seem like I have compared both people very differently. The other negatively, the latter positively. But the reality is, they both give positive results and both are very important to me. They’re both the kind of people anyone would love to be within a certain amount of time and a definite situation.
It’s important to iterate that what somehow was described negatively in this written piece is not the result of the people’s negativity but rather the fragility of my heart. Their strength and struggles in life were too strong for me. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with them. It’s only important that I get to breathe in lighter air and not become a burden to them.
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