One Year Later

If you would have asked me a year ago, where I thought I'd be right now, my answer definitely would not have been married, teaching at a Muslim American school, and living in Oklahoma.

A year ago today, people were remembering 9/11. Nine years had passed since the tragic incident. I remember it vividly. It was Ramadan, it was a Saturday, and I was working on assignments due for my online Organizational Communications class. I was wondering what I was going to write for my thesis. I was considering my future options. Up until that point, I had been considering going for my Ph.D. right after my masters, but I started reconsidering my options, thinking of going back into the work field, to bring something fresh to my Ph.D. when I finally went for it. I was thinking about moving to DC to take a communications job. That's what I was thinking about that weekend in my room.

A year later, it's also the weekend. Yesterday I witnessed the most breathtaking sunset I had ever seen. The sun majestically descended the skies, creating extensions of fire across the horizon; it's rays igniting the tip of every cloud. The breeze drifted across the water to where we sat. I leaned against him taking it all in, feeling his heart beat against my back, and in his fingers intertwined with mine.

I am on a leather couch as I write this. I just had some pizza and wings, the game is on, and my rock and anchor is by my side on the couch. I'm wondering what lesson I'll start with tomorrow for my 7th grade English class. I'm tossing ideas back and forth about a new song I've been thinking about. I'm mentally planning out my new workout schedule. But most of all, I am at peace. Because I feel his fingers, gently resting on my leg. And I feel safe.

The reason I'm writing this is a year ago -- not even in my wildest dreams -- would I have ever imagined being this happy and content with life. The last year has been a blur. It began with a serendipitous trip in the middle of October, a promise in December, a ceremony in February, and a timeless celebration in May. Now, a year later, I have to pinch myself to check that I am not dreaming. God's blessing is overwhelming.

You see, the reason why this is of the utmost magnitude is because I was so sad for SO long. I was in the darkest of places with no way out. I used to feel so helpless and so alone, that being this happy -- even a year later -- is a foreign concept for me. I still don't get it. But I am learning. And I love it.

So this year, I celebrate this moment. A small, tiny moment that consists of me sharing a Sunday afternoon with my husband, before the craziness of the work week begins. A moment that consists of feet propped up, laptops in laps, and fingers touching. This moment has been a lifetime in the making. And it was worth it.

The Past and the Future

I am at a crossroads in my life. Taking the time to breathe in and out at times like these gives me peace.

It's happened before, and it will surely happen again. However, there are decision-related crossroads, and then there are don't-mind-fuck-with-me crossroads. Yeah, I'm at that one.

I'm not the type of person who feeds off of people's pain. I don't purposely try to hurt others to make myself feel better, and I fully believe that good should be paid forward, 110% of the time, and that that's life. That's how it should be. We will struggle, we will fall, but at the end of the day, we should be the best versions of ourselves, because the way we choose to be is the image that lives in the minds and memories of others, and THAT image, is you.

I have been dealing with a specific situation my whole life, that has been nothing but a burden, and has always been filled with pain. There is one fond memory that I have with this person, when I was on an amusement park ride, with my hands raised in the air, the breeze blowing my pigtails back, my smile so broad that my cheeks hurt. And I remember thinking, "If I had the power to freeze time, I would freeze it at this moment."

But alas, that moment passed, and now I'm here. Many, many years later, reality is unkind.

I am not a hater, I am a lover who probably loves too much, too fast, too deeply. But it is who I am.

I do hate some things though.

I hate broken promises. I hate it when people don't carry out something they said they would. I hate irresponsibility. I hate people who victimize themselves, instead of owning up to their mistakes. I hate people who don't follow through. I hate having my heart broken every time, like it's the first time.

I hate who I am sometimes...

This is a joyous time for me. It is a happy time filled with challenges, good memories, and I have a man in my life that has lifted a thick veil that has been over my eyes for so long, and in so doing, has made everything beautiful again. I am truly blessed. And it is the thought of that blessing that helps me breathe in and out at times like these.