Seeing your best friend cry is incredibly painful… I remember the first time I saw her cry. Really cry. Sobbing in the waiting area of an isolated bathroom at an institute. Seated on the marble seating attached to the wall with her handbag and notebooks carelessly strewn across the floor… Letting tears waterfall down her cheeks and chin and eventually onto the palms of her hands on her lap. Her face flushed, eyes red, and her eyelashes appearing blacker than usual due to being wet and her eyes sparkling constantly as new sets of tears escaped her eyes.
And she spoke in broken words, of despair and distress. Within those moments she seemed so unbelievably fragile as her voice broke every time she expressed how terribly life had cheated her and robbed her of everything that she held dear…
Every time I tried to hold her hand, she pulled it back ’cause comfort simply couldn’t reach her at that point. And every time she pulled it back, tears escaped my eyes because I couldn’t handle the fact that she was so much in despair that she wouldn’t even allow comfort to reach her… I couldn’t handle it ’cause she was the sun. My source of light and warm, loving joy. And in those moments my sun was immersed in darkness and that was not supposed to be. I could not handle the eclipse that my sun was going through. This sun that grew flowers in my heart and warmed the windows of my house. The sun that smiled and smiled and constantly smiled and certain times co-operated with the clouds to let them rain their mercy upon us. And then it came back up and spread rainbows around, but now my sun was dull and darkened and in pain and I continuously cried with her and tried my best to shed light over the darkness that loomed over her, but how do you convince the sun of its warmth?
Eventually she stopped crying and we both went and attended class after making our faces right. She’s good at it- my friend. At letting the redness wash from her eyes and taking the flushed expression off of her face and speaking in a voice that hardly gives away its secret of having continuously broken just a few moments ago…
I’ve realized about this friend of mine that you can never immediately motivate or inspire her. If she’s depressed, she’ll remain depressed. The best she would want from you is to just listen to her speak about pain and the fraud that life is… Eventually, she gets over it herself. She slowly comes back to light but then darkness always finds its way back to her.
I guess sh’es more like night and day. You cannot stop the light of day from going out and you cannot stop the dark of night from approaching, but neither can you stop the sun from coming back up again.
And through all of this, all I know is that when people like her are in pain, it’s contagious.
After the first time, I saw her cry a million times over various valid reasons. And I was the one standing over a prayer mat, crying and elongating my prostrations, begging Allah to relieve her of her pain ’cause she deserved the most beautiful things from this world. Beautiful like the stars that twinkle at night. Beautiful like fireflies that fly like sparks in darkness. Beautiful like a candle flame that dances around in a darkened room. Beautiful like the sight of freshly grown dandelions in the deserts of Kuwait. Beautiful like dark green vines of red roses climbing up the walls of a palace. Beautiful like the sight of fine blue shore of a beach aligned by a million white seashells upon wet sand. Beautiful like the majestic clouds as seen from an airplane window, high up in the sky. Beautiful like a bunch of pigeons taking flight into the sky together.
She deserved the best.
She deserved the best then, and she deserves the best now.
I love her.