The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Sandals

I didn't see Noah the next day, or the day after that. In fact, it's been ten days since our last encounter and I haven't spoken to him since. It hasn't been easy though. It's probably, the longest and toughest ten days I've had, and I'd like to think that its because exams have been killer and not because I've had a rough 'break up'. If you can even call it that.

I don't want to pity myself- I refuse to give in to the fact that I fell unconditionally, cold and hard for a guy. That I believed that Noah and I wouldn't be like all the other failed out of wedlock relationships. But most of all, I refuse to believe that these mixed feelings of remorse and longing are anything but a lesson. A lesson learnt the hard way.

That mentality works most of the time, like when I told mum that I was officially over Noah without so much as a quiver in my voice. I told her and I hung up almost immediately before the lump in my throat grew and gave me away. She was shocked, and adamant on knowing what happened- even asking if it was my religious morals coming into play. I couldn't be bothered fighting back to that. More accurately, I didn't want to defend my 'haram' relationship. Whether it having been my deen or Noah's selfish lies, it wasn't worth more zunoob.

I've stuck to avoiding Noah, and it worked well for the weekend, but once Monday came along, things became much harder. I didn't exactly end things completely the other night, and that gave Noah the impression that things will get better, that this can be fixed. In a way, it sparks something in my heart, a warm feeling of chance that floats up to my mind and bobs there in possibility. And if anything, that hurts me more. I want to rule Noah out of my mind, out of my life, but deep down I know that I don't want to do that just yet.

People like Noah, don't just come along everyday, and I feel like I'm the one that was lucky enough to have come across him at Tip-Top. Someone so genuinely nice and grounded, and open and calm. The more I got to know him the more perfect he seemed. He was too good, and in hindsight, probably too good to be true.

I try not to think of that often though because what he did was a mistake, albeit a big one, but a mistake nonetheless. I've been convincing myself of that for the past couple of days, in hopes of moving on, but a more stubborn and proud part of me refuses.

Sighing, I turn off the lights in my apartment and glance around once, before heading out to my afternoon class. I can't help but glance at Noah's door and instinctively, my heart pace quickens with the possibility of him stepping out at any moment. Biting the inside of my cheek, I lock my door and linger for a moment, though when I realize how stupid I'm being, I walk off and head down the stairs.

My sandals slap against the concrete steps as I keep my eyes trained on the ground to not trip in my haste, though I end up bumping into someone instead.

"Sorry." I mumble as I lift my gaze to the person in front of me, and when I do I feel my heart slip to my stomach.

"You're good." Mads replies, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear and smiling gently at me. "Hana, right?" She asks as she moves to the side by the entrance door, and as she does, her hair shines golden in the light and her freckles become enhanced by the softness of the light making her look if possible more beautiful than the first time I saw her.

"Yeah." I nod and muster up a smile of my own, but it hardly reaches my eyes, and I can feel my lips chap and pull as they widen.

"Heading off to Uni?" I nod and fiddle with my bag strap. I'm bubbling with awkwardness and want to leave, having no interest to converse with Mads, but she doesn't seem in a hurry to be anywhere. In a way that comforts me because maybe she's not here to see Noah, but that seems very unlikely. When I don't say anything else, Mads stares at me expectantly, with her smile unwavering and for some reason that annoys me- I'm not in the mood.