I had long been preparing my heart for loss.
Until I thought that if it ever came, I would not tremble.
Yet, when it arrived, it carried me into a world of new sighs.
And when the moment of truth came, it struck like an arrow, not merely an idea.
I prayed so much:
If it is good for me, bring it near.
And if it is not, turn it away by Your mercy, O Allah.
Little by little, attachment faded, but the heart still hid a wish that never dies.
How painful it is to see your prayers walk through another door,
while your hands were raised, quietly, full of yearning, for years.
I know my prayers are not lost, for Allah’s wisdom comes before all things.
But knowing this doesn’t stop the pain; sometimes it only makes us cry more silently.
I had seen the threads of this wish hanging before my eyes, delicate as cobwebs, until it became clear this dream was never destined to be mine.
And I learned: anything built on probability is dangerous.
The mind clings to “maybe” because it is easier than accepting the end, but probability repeats pain instead of burying it.
And self-growth is not a stage where possibilities are determined.
Rather, another experience, another hope may not heal you, but allows you to understand life more deeply.
In the end, I learned how to turn pain into language, instead of leaving it as a silent story.
A Dream That Faded Away, Yet I Am Satisfied by Marwa Moataz Al hallaq
Image courtesy of Marwa Moataz Al hallaq
July 25, 2026
