Ironically perfect

Late to work.

Got a ticket.

Going 55 on his radar.

More like going at least 60 before I saw him and tapped the brakes.

Supposed to go only 40.

Not like anyone else does.

Not like that is a good enough excuse.

Officer wrote me a ticket for 49 in a 40.

$120 ticket.

Making me even later than I was to begin with.

Ironically perfect?

"Bad Day" played on the radio while he wrote the ticket.

I smiled and went on to enjoy a wonderfully okay day.

Regret

I hate it when I get this angry. I hate it when I get upset and it shows. To be upset is okay. To wear your feelings on your sleeve is not.

**********

I ran over a frog. I saw it hop, hop, hopping. If I looked closely, I could probably have seen it smile as it bounced on the cement in the cool evening. Instead I just saw it hop, hop, hopping. Just when I realized what it was, I felt it under my tires. If I listened closely, I could probably have heard it scream as it died on the cement in the cold of the evening.

**********

“Does the pain ever go away?” she asked, her blue eyes piercing into my soul, begging me to answer in a most satisfactory way.

I hesitated a moment. ‘Does it?’ I ask myself. And then it hit me again:

She won’t be there at my wedding…she can’t tell me it will be okay when things fall apart…she can’t give me her approval…she can’t hug me, kiss me…she can’t laugh at my silly jokes…she can’t teach me how to make her signature meals…she won’t ever see my children, her grandchildren…I won’t ever see her just because I want to…

I look at this woman in front of me, this woman who had many more years to enjoy than I did. I see the pain in her eyes, as I’m sure she can see the struggle in mine, no matter how much I try to hide it. And then I know.

“No,” I say, defeated by the words. “No, it never goes away.”

***********

I ran over a frog last night. I killed it. Somewhere in the lush, moist earth where the green grass is growing ever taller and ever thicker, there is a young frog. I hope she understands I did not mean to do it. I hope she remembers all the good times. I hope she can forgive me for her loss. I hope she can forgive her mother.

************

Out of Place

"That is such a gorgeous tree, masha'Allah!" I said pointing to the tree directly in front of us.

"SubhanAllah, it really is," replied my friend.

It was a tall, round tree. All the trees surrounding it were green, plush-looking trees. This tree was dark; the leaves were so dark they were almost black with a unique maroon tint. It looked almost out of place, yet peculiarly beautiful and mesmerizing.

"It's so different, so beautiful," I say.

"Just like us," she replies.

Just like us.

Shouting at the top of my lungs

Don't ask me to speak.

I will not speak now;
even the deaf could hear the bitterness in my voice.

Disappointment......but not despair

I'm not going to Libya this summer...I have been saving for so long. I have been dreaming for longer. But even now at 23 I've never been and only dream of going. I am not giving up though. I am going to send my Baba insha'Allah, but my dream of going this summer is crushing. I nearly cried (from the girl who never admits to crying, that's saying a lot). Every time I think about it, I just want to cry. I know that my family could not handle both of us going (Baba and I) but I was determined to go this summer. It is not simply a matter of money (I was going to pay for my Baba and I to go), it's that my brothers, sisters, and step-mom could not handle things alone with Baba and the oldest daughter so many miles away. At least I can realized it myself...I would have died if someone else had to break it to me.

I was determined to go, but Allah had other plans...and I'm realizing how impossible the dream for this year was.

I am not giving up though. I will send my father this summer, and insha'Allah I will go during the winter break. That way I will get to experience Eid there and be able to stay for a month. Insha'Allah my dream will come true and I will finally see the land my father grew up on, the family that I never knew, the culture I wish to have; I'll be able to call myself Libyan and know what it really means.

Insha'Allah...I'll keep making dua...I'll keep saving...I'll remain satisfied...insha'Allah