Karma?
Astagfirullah...
Astagfirullah...
Astagfirullah...
How could I even whisper such a thought?
I am a servant of Allah, a believer who trusts not in karma but in the divine justice that awaits us all.
For every seed we sow — whether of light or shadow — will bear fruit in its own time, by His will alone.
Yet, how do I endure this marriage that feels like a silent storm within my soul?
How long must I tether my heart, patient and fragile, to a man whose attitude frays the edges of my faith?
Voices surround me — even those of my own blood — labeling me a fool for clutching to a love so battered, so worn.
But surrender is a word too harsh for the love that still lives in the quiet chambers of my heart.
From the first tender days of our courtship to the sacred vows exchanged, I have fought — with every fiber of my being — to believe, to hope.
Though his actions may fracture this bond, my heart whispers his name with the same longing as before, aching for the man I vowed to cherish.
I feel the eyes of the world upon me, waiting for the moment I collapse and retreat to the shelter of my parents’ arms.
But I am not yet broken.
He promised — with words wrapped in the weight of forever — to make me the one, his only, beside our precious daughter.
That promise, fragile yet fierce, is the thread that still binds me to him.
I hold it close, a fragile ember glowing amidst the ash of doubt and hurt.
And as long as that ember burns, I will not let go.
I will pray with every breath, hoping the love that once bloomed between us can rise anew — healing, forgiving, restoring.
For now, I am not ready to yield to despair.
Not now.
Not while the heart still dares to believe.
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