Here we go again

Bismillah...

Hokeyyy...

Here we go again.

Another round in this silent war, Another attempt to fight what’s unseen—
To fix what I never broke, To heal wounds I didn’t cause.

26c1dc9e.

A code. 

A reminder. 

A burden.

It’s the beginning of the same cycle,

A ritual I’ve done too many times.

Cleanse.  

Reset. 

Endure.

And though I walk through it once more, I ask myself, How much longer can I carry this?

I’m not here to complain.

I’ve passed that phase long ago.

Now, I sit quietly in acceptance, No longer questioning the reasons, No longer chasing the truth behind the whispers, The spells, The black magic tied to his name.

I used to wonder why.

Why him?

Why me?

Why this marriage?

Why the pain that loops again and again

Like a broken song stuck in time?

But I’ve learned that not every ‘why’ needs an answer.

Some things are simply written, And some battles are chosen not by us,
But for us.

I no longer seek to understand his motives.

I don’t need explanations anymore.

I’ve stopped waiting for him to change,

Stopped hoping he’d fight beside me

Instead of leaving me to fight alone.

Still, I rise.

Still, I perform the rituals.

Still, I whisper prayers in the stillness of night

While the world sleeps, my heart aches in silence.

Ya Allah…

You are the most knowing.

You see what is hidden.

You hear what is never spoken.

And I believe—

With every breath in me—

That You would never burden me With something I cannot bear.

So I keep going. 

Step by heavy step.

Carrying this marriage on my shoulders, Even if I walk it alone.

Not out of weakness,But because my faith teaches me That patience has reward, That hardship has purpose, And that pain—when entrusted to You— Becomes a bridge to something greater.

I do this not for him.

Not anymore.

But for me.

For the peace I crave,

For the closure I deserve,

For the future that might still bloom

Beyond the darkness of today.

So here I am.

Still standing.

Still praying.

Still doing the ritual,

One more time.

Maybe for the last time.

Maybe not.

But always with hope

That You, Ya Rabb,

Will guide me To whatever ending You’ve written for me—

With strength, with clarity, And above all,with peace.

Aamiin.

4 out of 4

4 out of 4... yeah, you heard that right...

It started with the first one—the day that should have been etched forever in our hearts, the very beginning of our story: October 7th, 2009. 

Our first date, the day I believed marked the start of forever.

But for him, it was just another day, forgotten, lost in the depths of his mind like a fleeting shadow. 

That day meant the world to me, yet it vanished without a trace from his memory. 

How does someone forget the day two souls promised to walk together?

Then came the second blow—our anniversary on October 23rd. 

The day we sealed our love with vows, hopes, and dreams. 

I waited, quietly wishing for a sign, a word, a gesture that would remind me I still mattered. 

But there was nothing. 

Silence. 

When I gathered the courage to ask, his answer was like a cold wind cutting through my soul: “Siapa bilang lupa? Ingat kok. Terus kenapa? Kan cuma tanggal doang.” 

Just a date, he said. 

Just a number on the calendar. 

But to me, it was a symbol of us — our journey, our memories, our love. 

That casual dismissal hurt deeper than I could ever put into words.

Thirdly, his birthday came and went in the most disappointing way. 

I tried to show him I cared, wishing him happy birthday on Path, hoping to see even a flicker of appreciation in return. 

But he just told me to delete the app. 

When I wished him face-to-face, his reaction was a careless facepalm.

No smile, no warmth, just a gesture that echoed loud in the emptiness between us. 

It was as if my effort to celebrate him was a burden, a nuisance he couldn’t be bothered with. 

That moment shattered my heart a little more.

And then, the final nail in the coffin—my birthday. 

The day I quietly hoped for a little love, a word, a glance that said I’m seen, I’m cherished. 

But he forgot. 

Completely. 

No birthday wishes, no “Happy birthday darling,” no tender words that would remind me I mattered in his life. 

Just silence. 

Cold, unyielding silence.

4 out of 4.

Every special date, every meaningful moment, overlooked, ignored, erased.

This year has been a cruel reminder of how distant we’ve become.

How fragile love can be when one heart forgets to nurture it.

How lonely it feels to stand beside someone who no longer remembers what you mean to them.

This year sucks.

No, it doesn’t just suck — it’s a painful echo of broken promises and fading memories.

And yet, here I am, still holding on, still wondering if he remembers me at all.

If somewhere deep inside, the love still lingers, waiting for a chance to be rekindled.

But the truth is, memories and anniversaries aren’t just dates on a calendar.

They’re the heartbeat of a relationship — the proof that we care, that we remember, that we choose each other every day.

And when those moments are forgotten, what’s left but silence and sorrow?

4 out of 4.

This year has been the harshest lesson in love —

That sometimes, the one you choose to spend your life with can forget the moments that meant everything.