[idk who they are ^ but how graceful, MashaAllah.]

But how can I hurt someone?

Allah miyaan I'm so sorry, I was so childish while signing those papers, I don't want to marry anyone other than Azaan.

I can't do this.

A tiny bit of hope seeps in and I leave it all on Allah, not wanting to break it.

The elders of bhabhi's family join us and I bite my thumb's nail to seize the pressure of the tears building behind my eyes.

My head is literally revolving around Azaan since he came.

I smile at the way bhabhi's dada dadi shut the 'fast-paced senseless music' and sing their favorite songs to each other.

Jaane woh kaise log the jin ke
pyaar ko pyaar mila,
Hum ne toh jab kaliyaan maangi
kanton ka haar mila,

Khushiyon ki manzil ddhoonddi toh
gham ki gard mili
Chaahat ke nagme chaahe toh
aahein sard mili
Dil ke bojh ko doona kar gayaa
joh gham khaar milaa

Hum ne toh jab kaliyaan maangi
kanton ka haar milaa
Jaane woh kaise log the jin ke
pyaar ko pyaar milaa

Bichar gayaa har saathi de kar
pal do pal ka saath
Kis ko fursat hai joh thaame
deewaanon ka haath

Hum ko apna saaya tak
aksar bezaar milaa
Hum ne toh jab kaliyaan maangi
kanton ka haar milaa
Jaane woh kaise log the jin ke
pyaar ko pyaar milaa

~~~

I spend the next day thinking about a line bhabhi's dadi sang,

Iss ko hi jeena kehte hain toh
youn hi jee lein ge
Ouf naa karein ge
lab see lein ge
aansoo pee lein ge

Gham se abbh ghabrana kaisa
gham so baar milaa

I just can't get it out of my mind.

Some people can actually move on in life despite continuous immense pain? They can think of living when it's nearly impossible?

I think of killing myself every once in a while. I make a mistake and that's it, I'm stupid I'm not gonna live anymore. No more life, no more mistakes, no more embarrassment.

And I discuss it with bhabhi,

"I can't believe some people are strong enough to accept life's atrocities and just... carry on? It makes no sense to me. Like, you always have the option of—"

Damn that sounds too disordered, I can't say that.

"Of, um," I try to make something up, "taking the double dose of antidepressants."

That's what you did last night, Sawera.

She raises an eyebrow, "No? You face it. No matter how many shits life throws at you, you can always deal with it when you have faith."

Kinda makes sense.

I've survived for so long just because of The One sitting up there, watching me.

Since yesterday I pray even more for this agony to end.

"Faith in Allah and in yourself."

Brown attire for the qawaali night.

Azaan makes me so self-conscious.

I ogle his sherwaani while my mind travels back to our wedding day.

A spark of euphoria enlightens my heart.

"May I borrow your brown lip gloss?"

"Yea you may," and this is what bhabhi does all the time, whenever I ask her for help she's immediately there.

She takes it out of her purse and sits me down to apply it over my brown lipstick.

"But did you hear me? Faith in yourself, Sawera."

I dismiss her talks by nodding and leaving towards the bride, who's still getting ready.

I help her with her dress and sit with her and her friends while she gets her makeup done.

I'm so unsophisticated. Everyone here has manners, they all talk so elegantly, even Sehar aapi's dada dadi, they talk, sing, even smile with class.

I feel so clumsy and mannerless.

Of course Areeb isn't aware what type of a family I belong—

God, Areeb.

He... We were...

God, I danced with Azaan in front of Areeb.

Not like he was ever going to be interested in me.

Nor is Azaan.

It pains the way I talk to myself, it makes me hate myself even more and that's not okay.

I've committed no sin.

Why do I keep on hating myself as if I were the most terrible person—

I don't want any lipstick.

I excuse myself to my room.

I close the door, sit on the bed and look up.

It's a happy occasion. Everyone's happy.

Everyone looks good.

I'm wearing a gorgeous outfit and I've always —since childhood— wanted to wear such lehengas.

A tear slips down both my eyes.

Allah's punishing me for a reason. Maybe I truly am the most terrible person.

I can't remember any major sin except that one time after our divorce when I tried hanging out with a high school friend and smoked a puff.

Things were already bad before that—

Tsk.

I don't care.

Azaan wasn't written for me—

Wallah, no matter how much I try, and even though in every prayer I ask Allah to help him move on, I still can't think of him with anyone else.

I lower my face to not ruin my makeup and rush for the tissue paper.

I dab my eyes with it and walk towards my pills when I realize I can't keep on taking more than needed.

I hold my waist to calm down but the anxiety doesn't go away until I pick my phone and open the Quran.com app.

In the back of my mind I'm still contemplating those questions and when the first ayah itself is on how merciful and forgiving Allah is, how can I doubt Him not forgiving my sins?

If I've done any wrong Allah miyaan I apologize right now, just give me Azaan bac—

I can't ask for him. That's too much.

I've never asked for him in these four years.

Asking for him means asking Allah to annul all my prayers of him moving on.

He can't be mine anyways.

I was stupid to lose him in the first place.

It's all confusing me so much.

How do I—

If He claims to be so merciful and forgiving then He needs to make this matter easier.

It can't just—

I know it was my mistake.

But I was mentally ill.

I can't expect Azaan love me now, let alone once I've had a physical relationship with another guy.

I—

Maybe, maybe this ayah was a sign?

I read it again.

But whoever repents after his wrongdoing and reforms, indeed, Allah will turn to him in forgiveness. Indeed, Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.

[Quraan 5:39]

I swipe up the app and open Google.

I open an Islamic forum,

how do I word this?

Um,

I did an irreversible act while I was mentally ill. Can I undo that?

How would they know, stupid?

I'll have to write it in detail.

I forced my husband to divorce me—

No, I need to make a spam account for this.

I take around fifteen minutes to end it and click on send after blowing all the surahs over the question and praying to find an expiation, or literally anything that could undo that.

I regret it since the first second.

He loved me.

I know he did.

[Khair, life goes on.]