What could be worse than attending a party you didn't want to go to? Having no one to hang out with.

With a cup to my lips, I gloss my eyes over the guests at my sister's engagement party.

That is before a lady in a pink dress, and so tall I must crane my neck to see her grey eyes comes over to kiss me on the cheek and introduce herself. From then on, I am swirled away. Every woman, child, and daughter come to kiss, hug, or laugh with the me, the bride's sister. A teenager makes me laugh till I bend over, squeezing my stomach, and a toddler with the squishiest cheeks had me on my knees, my maroon dress pooling around me, hugging her. It brought me to tears.

I catch a glimpse of my mom and dad walk on the stage on the other side of the room, and that's when her mother tells me they'll get ready for dinner. I nod and walk towards a table. Water. I am so parched!

For the second time that evening, I am leaning on a table, cup to my lips, and eyes glossing over the crowd. All the couples and families are pulling their chairs and fixing their clothing. Or quieting their kids.

There is a table, all the way at the front, for the bride's family. An extra chair that will be left empty. There is no reason to pretend that the furtive glances I have been shooting over my shoulder all evening were for anyone else but him. But he is not coming.

We've attended many parties together. At these events, he was never too far. He'd always get my attention me with a hand on my shoulder, and a knowing smile. He'd talk with the men, but he would always come stand near me.

We'd often do this exact activity. When we needed a breather, we'd stand in a corner, and people-watch, often in silence. It was comforting.

My shoulder has been bare all evening.

People always talk about cutting people off, but not a soul ever mentions the heaviness it brings, how parts of you die with them. There needs to be a word for that.

I grip my chest and start walking towards the back door for fresh air. That familiar feeling, the one I've been feeling all week, of my heart beating out of my chest, and my breathing getting shallower again, resumed.

However, I'm in the back room when I hear familiar voices on the other end of the curtain. Behind a curtain near the banquet hall, my parents acting as a unit, and smiling lovingly at the family of the groom.

But what shakes me isn't those smiles, it's the smiles they are giving each other. As if they are... in love. But they aren't. Of course, not.

My mom turns to look at the banquet table, and her long hijab almost spills the drinks on the table behind her. My father, mid-speech, reaches absentmindedly to lift its end until she turns her attention again on the couple. A few seconds later, someone almost runs into him. "Careful" she says, reaching around him. Without a second thought. As if they'd never hated to even be near each other.

Once, my mom begrudgingly ate the breakfast she prepared for us, eyes filled with tears while dad was obliviously smiling at the good meal. It was her first day back after "getting a break from the kids". And that wasn't the first time. A few days later, dad's eyes were reduced to slits as he walked us to the bus stop for the fifth day in a row with an empty stomach because Mom "forgot to make breakfast". Or that day they'd left the house to "reevaluate their relationship".

Now, they invite each other for awkward dinners every week, and plan road trips to remote destinations where they'll have to interact with each other and their partners 24/7, but most surprising is that they speak with more respect than they ever did as a couple. Especially in front of us, the kids.

Maybe there is no one true love of your life. Maybe there are multiple, depending on the stage of your life. Because right now, the people they are with,... I think it's true love. They were meant to be,... I think.

It dawns on me, then, that if my parents could get back together, they would be a better union than when they raised me. Why? Because they're matured. Their personality, and mindset has changed.

Is there any wisdom to this I can apply to my relationship?

My mother is adjusting her shoes when she catches me in the corner, and waves me over to greet the groom's grandparents. I bite back my reluctance and walk to the table to grab a cake.

My father side-hugs me into the conversation. "Ihsan has worked so hard on this party; making calls, ordering the cake, picking the décor. She's the mastermind behind this, and she's excited to have you all as our extended family."

I kiss each of their cheeks and smile. "It's nothing. I enjoy planning."

My new grandmother belly-laughs, and although I was having a horrible time at this party, it lightens my mood. For the first time that evening, I feel a little less heavy. After all the conversation niceties, she surprises me with her acute sense of perception.

"You look tired, beta, anything you want to ask us. After all, grandparents do know better."

I cover my mouth and laugh. But as I am shaking my head no, a question starts forming, and before I can stop myself, I blurt it out. "What's the secret to a long happy relationship?"

Growing up around dysfunctional relationships my whole life, I often wonder about this. Can our—my sibling's relationships— make it? Can I be anything other than miserable, or misunderstood, or misled?

I know you can find advice on the internet, and in books, but I want advice from people of my culture, people who know what our challenges are, and I don't really have any grandparents to ask for reliable advice when they were all either divorced,... or had a loveless marriage.

Sounds depressing.

She gives me a smile that says it all – that's what it is. She doesn't think for very long, as if the answer is very simple. "1) Be responsive to your partner. Show that you care, and that you are there for them. Even when you think you've understood, you can always understand better. 2) Be patient—divorce rarely solves the issue. The best relationships don't just exist, they are built."

My father surprises me by jumping into the conversation. "I'd add to not misinterpret anger in relationships. Yes, we must control it. But when we fail, you must understand that it's often not anger at you, but on your behalf. It hurts to care. You get angry when they don't sleep enough, or do things they enjoy like read their books, or cook food they enjoy."

Something clicks in.

My dad looks at my mom as he kisses my temple, and I remember what he just said 'divorce is rarely the answer'. Do they regret it?

She is looking at him, then shifts her eyes on me when she nods. Yes, she's saying. Not to divorce, but to the fact that they could have made it work if not for extenuating circumstances. Tears well up in my eyes. I've always wanted my family to stay together.

For the first time in forever, I understand. It's hard to see a way through when you think there isn't one. What's that saying—we notice what we pay attention to? Yes, we do.

She put an arm around my shoulder, and whispers against my head, bringing me back to the present. "I'm sorry, Ihsan. Go make it work."

She's apologizing. For my marriage. For misleading Rafiq. Although I am angry at her, something bigger occupies my mind.

What if what Rafiq is asking for isn't too much after all? Could I have misinterpreted the anger?

Angry for reading his boring books instead of mine (I have better taste), cooking only the food he loves, eating food that makes my sensitive stomach burn.... What if he's just asking me to let go of all the expectations, and have fun? What if he's saying that I don't need to be anyone else, but me?

Cliché, but could the answer have been in my nose all along?

All this time, I thought I was building a happy marriage by being what I thought he liked. But what if all along, he just wanted me to be what I liked to be? He just wanted me to eat what I want, cook what I want and read what I want? Rafiq hadn't changed for me, and I hadn't wanted him too.

How could I be this ignorant?

Yes, anger is never the answer. But people aren't perfect. Relationships aren't perfect. People make them perfect. People build the relationships of their dreams. And we are so young,... we could make it better.

I will never understand why my parents' marriage couldn't work. And somewhere, deep down, I will always wish it did. I will always wish my parents could have stayed together. That I had one home to come to on the weekends. That I had one set of siblings.

If they'd known what they told me a bit earlier, would they still be together today? I guess only God knows.

But I can change something else, my future. I have the opportunity for once, to make a marriage right.

Tonight may be my last night to fix this mess. And wonderfully, I knew exactly how. How about a little trip down memory lane?

I unblock my childhood home at one am. I run for the pantry, and storages, foraging for all the supplies I'll need for tomorrow, mentally checking off a list. I wish stores were opened at this hour to get a few more things,... but this will have to do. I set my alarm for a little earlier than Fajr, and pray to Allah everything goes smoothly tomorrow.

Hopefully, I'm not too late. 

***

well well well, this is one of the last chapters of the story.

I don't know if i've portrayed it well, but this is why they'll be back together: oftentimes, couples want to give up, or do at the first few signs of disagreement, thinking that they're not "meant to be". I don't believe in that. And the way Allah has designed how to get engaged further supports my point. 

People aren't perfect, ever. You must be patient, and attentive. I'm taking this relationships class at uni too, and all the evidence suggests that the relationships that last are ones where the partners' daily exchanges build intimacy. How do you do that? through social support. What is social support? it's being trusting, validating and understanding. but not only that, the partner must perceive that you are those things. As we all know, there is difference between perception and reality. And perception is reality (which doesn't always play in our favour because if your partner doesn't think you are those things, it doesn't matter that you are doing them in your eyes). 

evidence also suggests that we don't know who we will love for two reasons 1) we cannot predict chemistry, and 2) two people must choose each other (which doesn't happen as often as we think).

In sum, the point of the story is that this little girl learns she must not sacrifice who she is for the peace of her marriage. Because she used her parents' failed marriage as a guide, she thought she must be all the things her mom wasn't to have a lasting relationship. however, that almost ruins her relationship. She learns that the reason her parents' marriage may have failed is because they just didn't/couldn't figure out a solution. they may have also rushed the decision (if you're patient, and keep trying, maybe you'll figure out the misunderstanding and get better).

Anyways, stay tuned for next week's chapter. Do you think she'll convince Rafiq to give her a chance? and do you think they should do so? 

What do you think makes a lasting relationship? i'm curious to hear your opinion