He realized too late; she was his life and the death of him.

-Sweet_Sultana

* * *

|Letter 10|

Dear Mukhtar,

           It's cold again; the harmattan breeze is here. And I miss you still.

         I'm guessing it's the breeze but we both know it's not. I, however, couldn't help but feel your warmth within its defiance and your essence in its unfolding mystery. For like the breeze, you too were strong, resilient, and yet...fleeting. And yet you both lingered in my memories. However, memories, I've come to know, is a double-edged sword and a mistress of its own. It gave me hope and it gave me pain but mostly, it gave me nothing.

             Which is all strange. Why? Because I thought I had all the answers figured out or at least I knew the questions; or so I thought. However right now, I don't know anymore. I seem to have gotten even more confused

         "Why weren't you curious about me? What I want, what I want to do, why didn't you care?"

         There were days I wanted to scream out these questions, scream very loud with the hope that someone, anyone, might feel the pain behind those words. But in the end, I never did. Do you know why? Because my anyone and someone was always you.

           Yes, I've loved you ever since I watched you stare unrepentant at Zaid after you'd protected me.

        And yes, I saw it all, or atleast most of it. I, however, filled the spaces with Zaid's outbursts and your narrative.

"What are you?" Zaid punched you hard across the face as soon as you were close enough. "And what gave you the right to do that?" Punching you again "She's my sister, you hear me? My sister!" The others ran towards you, holding him back.

You wiped off the blood on your mouth. You probably didn't know why you did that too. I guess you just felt like you should and you did it anyway. There was however no profound reason for your actions, just common human sympathy, I know now. And maybe the fact that you were sick and tired of Zaid's fiery temper and sick lame jokes. The whole torture thing seemed a bit juvenile. That was what you had told me anyway.

You looked over at Zaid, who was still struggling to free his held hands, still seething with rage and you knew you won't apologize, you didn't want to! You weren't wrong, Zaid was, and if he was going to let this stupid game come between your friendship, then so be it, you didn't need a cruel, dictator for a friend anyway. Those were your thoughts,  atleast the ones you told me.

"Let me go," Zaid had said between gritted teeth, as he struggled to be let free. You looked at Charles and Faisal, who were restraining him and nodded for them to let him go. There was no need for the restraints anymore, you could see the fire in his eyes had burned out.

"Stay the hell away from me." He yelled, pointing at you. As he turned and began walking away, the others followed behind him, each sparing you an apologetic look.

You hissed and ran your hands over your face. You couldn't help but feel guilty even though you knew his method was wrong, but you also knew Zaid, there is nothing that would have made him seen reason. His temper wouldn't let him. No, that was the best way to create impact, protecting me against him.

No, you didn't regret what you had done; you just wished you had done it a long time ago, you just didn't like fighting with Zaid, you had been through alot together, you didn't want to lose all that just because of a scrawny-scared looking kid. You don't even like me.

You sighed in frustration and kicked at nothing in particular; you hated stressful situations, that was one of the reason why you'd let Zaid do what he wanted until today, you were just too lazy to be bothered. That was until today that is, and you ended up hitting something which from the leafy noise it made sounded like a book.

My book!

You almost ignored the book, blaming my clumsiness, and my obvious lack of tact for your present predicament. But you'd looked down nevertheless and saw the book lying sprawled open, which from its size and pages, looked like some sort of diary. You had bent and picked it up, your eyes falling on the words scribbled on the page opened.

Twenty reasons why people should love me;

1. I hate Math

2. I hate Maths

3. I hate Mathematics

You smiled and closed the book. Probably thinking I was cute in a way. Nevertheless, you felt like you were infringing on my privacy and my hateful relationship with Mathematics. You would need to return the book to me, soon. Though you can't say for sure how soon was.

You walked to your car and dropped the book on the owner's corner as you sat down to drive, but for some reason, you found that you were curious. You wanted to know all twenty reasons why I was lovable, but knowing how morally wrong that was, you settled on just a peek at number 20-after having a vigorous moral debate with yourself which you had come to that conclusion a mere second after the debate began, liked I said, you couldn't be bothered. And so you grabbed open the book and read;

20. I'll never leave without saying goodbye.

You closed shut the book, feeling even more curious than you had felt before you'd read that. You had never looked at me with any other interest apart from your bestfriend's step-sisnemy; an object to be trampled upon. But you had stumbled on a part of me you'd never seen before and you realised that you wanted to meet this side of me. Know this side of me.

And with that knowledge came the reason why that was definitely not your brightest of ideas. Zaid would never hear of it and Zaid was your bestfriend even if now he was angry at you.

You had forced your mind off the tiny book covered in heart-shaped stickers lying beside you and focused on the drive home as you put the key in ignition. You needed to get home, take your bath and began getting ready for your training at the defence academy which will begin in three weeks time or hopefully, meet your bestfriend; both of which didn't appeal much to you. You'd rather be reading one certain book, and that was undoubtedly, a very bad idea.

        I love this part of our story. This part where you fell in love with me. It made me feel... special.

           Do you know what your crime was? You were a variable in my constant world, but in this world of mine, your kind couldn't be tolerated.  You were too wild, too intense and constantly changing, so much even that I feared I might not be able to recognise you someday. Such was my plight!

             I can look at you for hours and yet not know if you were the person I spoke to a few minutes ago or if you were somebody else and I constantly wondered if you were there-that person you were moments ago. But I was scared you'll think me mad.  I was crazy, right? For how can a person live constantly wondering when someone would change, and even expecting them to.

        Okay, I'll admit it. I was scared. I worried, mostly about nonsensical. and absurd things and made many imaginary obstacles in our way, but worried nevertheless. Every moment spent with you were spent in fear. I needed constant reassurance that you were with me as much as I needed to know my heart was still beating and I needed to know badly. People I love had always left me, and I was scared you would too. I couldn't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me. You are intelligent, talented, handsome, kind, focused, driven, and wild and me; a nameless person who doesn't even know what she wants in life. But strangely, we matched. Maybe that was why I lived in constant fear; we were people who didn't even make sense in the first place. An absurd blunder of fate!

         "It'll always be there tomorrow." That was your answer when I had asked you what kind of love we had. So I'm going to believe in those words and wait for tomorrow. Not the scary tomorrow I had always thought of, but the one you talked to me about. And even if I don't know how long today will be, or how much darker it can get, but since tomorrow will bring my love back to me, I'm going to wait for it.

            I guess what I am trying to say was that, for the hope of a better tomorrow which wasn't even here, and might never even be, I'm going to sacrifice my love for you today. What a dumb choice, right? Good thing I was always dumb.

With hope,

Maryam Muhammad Maishadda