Heartbreak

Living a meaningless life haunted me in my hostel room. Loneliness was overburdening me with its darkness, creeping into every corner of my mind. The silence was oppressive, a constant reminder of my solitude and the void left by my broken heart.

"The person who has hurt my son will never be happy!" The curse of his mother was still inside my ears, a haunting echo that replayed in my mind. Her words cut through my heart, amplifying my guilt and sorrow.

As I stared out of my window, the rain poured relentlessly, mirroring the storm inside me. It was mid-August, a time when the world outside should have been alive with the vibrancy of summer, but instead, it felt as desolate as my spirit. Yet, amidst this darkness, there was one belief that whatever Allah does, it's for the best. This belief was my only anchor, keeping me from being completely consumed by despair.

There were many questions regarding my breakup, questions that seemed to multiply with each passing day. Everyone was asking me why I even broke up with him. And the answer, in its simplicity, seemed almost absurd.

"I don't know... maybe I just need time for myself," I would say, but something was making me anxious inside. Sameer had let me go; he didn't even try to stop me. Maybe that feeling was of being dumped rather than dumping him. I knew he only loved me because of my studies. I was the first person from my home to study outside, and I was well-respected because of it. His ego didn't let him even hold my hand. That made me believe that except for the fact that I had long feelings for him, there was nothing to him. I had heard everyone taunting me: my sister who knew about it, Saniya, his parents, and him.

"I had thought at least you would not leave me!" he had said after not treating me well. His words were a cruel irony, a painful reminder of the disconnect between us.

On the day of independence, I had let the person go, making me independent of his thoughts. In the last stage of my teenage years, my first love all ended. It felt like the end of an era, a bittersweet farewell to the innocence of youth.

"Do I deserve it?"

"Should I just patch and live as if nothing happened to me?"

"But if I go any further, I will hurt myself!"

It was like, "Am I right or wrong?"

"Should I do it or not?"

"Is it all my fault to ask for his love?"

"Maybe it's my fault to even let that person close to me, ask for affection."

"He's the first person to show my shy side that no one had ever known, the first man to hold me, the first man to kiss me."

I was an introverted person who thought he would understand my muteness but he was also like others. He never understood me, and I was never able to tell him. "It was your fault that we broke up, It was all your fault." I wanted to scream this in his ears. But I felt too distant from him to even say anything. He would again say sorry, and I would forgive him. I remained silent, just the pains inside my chest.

From August to October, I locked myself in my room, not attending classes, and not even wanting to face anyone. Why bother to disturb others? No one's life would change even if I died. I used to weep not because of him but because of everyone. I was wrong in everyone's sight. My parents didn't even know what I was going through. Whenever I went home, I made my presence invisible as if I didn't exist. They didn't ask me what was the matter because they had made me strong enough to fight my situation. They believed in God and prayed for their child's well-being every day. They just thought to let me be; I needed time to overcome my situation. And I didn't let them down. I picked myself up again and again from the beginning as if nothing was bothering me. Maybe one day I will overcome it.

And I believed he should have loved me more than I loved him. This belief was a painful realization, a testament to the depth of my feelings and the shallow nature of his. The love I had offered him was pure, untainted by ulterior motives, and I had hoped for the same in return. But life, as I was learning, often had other plans.

The rain outside continued to pour, each drop a reminder of the tears I had shed. My room, my sanctuary, had become a prison of sorts, confining me within the walls of my despair. Yet, even in this darkness, I held onto the belief that Allah's plans were always for the best. This belief, though tested, remained my guiding light, leading me through the storm of my emotions.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The pain of my breakup began to dull, replaced by a newfound resilience. I started to attend classes again, forcing myself to engage with the world outside my room. It was a slow process, but with each step, I felt a little stronger, a little more in control of my destiny.

Looking back, I realized that my relationship with Sameer had been a chapter in my life's story, a chapter filled with lessons that I needed to learn. It had taught me about love, loss, and the importance of self-worth. It had shown me that sometimes, the people we love are not the ones who are meant to stay in our lives forever.

As the seasons changed, so did I. The rain gave way to the crispness of autumn, and with it, a sense of renewal. I began to see the beauty in my independence, the strength in my resilience. I started to believe that I deserved a love that was as deep and unwavering as my own.

And so, with each passing day, I continued to pick myself up, to face the world with renewed determination. I knew that my journey was far from over, but I also knew that I had the strength to face whatever lay ahead. Maybe one day, I would overcome it all.

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