Confessions of a Muslim Girl

Chapter 38 -- This Thing Called Love

NEW CHAPTER IS UP! I'm hella excited to share what I've basically slaved away at for a while now.

"Happiness is three syllables, but holds thousands of dreams and visions." -- Maysa Malik, COAMG

Chapter 38

This Thing Called Love

☼ Maysa Malik ☼

            Happiness is three syllables, but holds thousands of dreams and visions. It takes five seconds to spell, a lifetime to achieve. As I turn the key to my front door, I can’t help but feel like I’m floating. Oh my God. I just told Adam Ali that I love him. That’s all it took. It was a plunge and now…my stomach flutters and drops at the possibility of a future stretched out ahead of us.

            “Ma, I’m home!” I call out. No one responds. I hear the careful steps of someone heading downstairs. Zakariya appears behind me in grey jeans and a white shirt as I unbuckle the strap of my boot.

            “Zakariya, take it slow. You’ll kill me with that worry one day, I swear.” I warn him as he carefully leans his body on the wall with the support of his arm. His movements are calculated and cautious, but still too much for my liking.

            “Why are you so giddy?” He asks immediately.

            The blush flushes over my face so quickly, like the red satin skirt of a dress flaring up Marilyn Monroe-style. “Zak, I told Adam I loved him.” I reply honestly, the temperature of my skin rising several degrees. It’s like the happiness in me brims and nearly overflows but subdues at the last minute, backing out at the fear that this beautiful thing—this happiness—may be snatched away at the last minute.

            Zakariya is dead silent for several seconds. “You did what now?” He asks after a pause, deathly calm.

            Oh Allah, please guide me and make this easy for me, I silently pray. “I told Adam that I loved him.”
            “And why did you do that?” He asks as he guides me to the dining table, his hand placed firmly in between my shoulder blades.

            “Zakariya, I think I’ve always loved him, and maybe I just didn’t know it. I can think of countless times that I’ve just wanted to flat out say it, you know? But I didn’t. And I think it’s because timing matters.”

            “It does matter,” he responds as he pulls out a chair for me before sitting down himself with caution, “but my question is, why now?” The smile slowly slips off my face as fear builds in my heart. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, Mays. I don’t have anything to say right now, but I just want to know why. Think about it for a few minutes.”

            We sit in silence as I think. His strong hands are entwined as he patiently waits for me. He has the courtesy to look down to give me a few minutes in peace, to work through my emotions. It suddenly hits me that this is serious. This love thing, it’s not a cute little phase that fades out as I start to wrinkle and my hair grays. This is serious. This is a forever and beyond kind of thing. And I just seriously did something that was irreversible.

            My heart panics a little but I force myself to calm down and clear all my thoughts. I do a little mini-mediation first. I sit up straight, fix my posture like I’m about to pray to my Lord. I breathe in and out and repeat to myself, “Verily it is the mention of Allah that softens the hearts of the believers.” It’s a simple thing and the fear and panic doesn’t disperse immediately. Nothing in life is like that. It goes slowly. The pain stops and then slowly, so does the racing of my heartbeat. I feel the worries melt away and I box my emotions up for a bit and put myself into a rational mindset. I try to think long-term, taking inspiration from wondering what I would do if I was explaining my choices to God, why I did what I did.