the “before” strangers aren’t the same as the “after” strangers, though.
the before strangers are just who you are. you aren’t aware of each others existence, and you live your life.
the after strangers is an act. you have to pretend as if this person didn’t enter your life, irrevocably change your soul and perhaps take a piece of it. you pretend as if your heart doesn’t spasm when thoughts of them drift to your mind.
maybe, eventually, the after strangers won’t be an act. maybe it’ll be natural. like the before strangers.
or maybe it won’t. and I guess that’s okay too.
its an interesting cycle.
strangers. acquaintances. friends. lovers. then strangers again.
I find that whenever I’m selflessly nice to people, they see me as less. It’s only when I treat them like they’re average that they appreciate me. It’s as if being kind makes people look weak, whilst being indifferent creates an interesting chase. People are strange.
Hope gets tired too.
Muslim men will be saying how tight a muslimahs shirt is or her pants and not even question the fact that they were checking her out. Like????
not having closure isn’t fun. lots of unanswered questions.
and the frequency with which I ask myself those questions and berate myself for things is decreasing, which is nice. but they still happen.
I guess when those thoughts begin to intrude, it’s time for bed.
seedoamjad said:You sly dog. Sending some girl a milkshake. I see you. Send me one bb. Vanilla.
you know i’m all chocolate tho bb.
it was a strawberry oreo milkshake. both the girl and her friend were hijabis. i thought one of them was pretty (mashAllah). and my friends took it upon themselves to order her a milkshake on my behalf. i had no intentions of talking to her or anything (but obviously she didn’t know that).
…she didn’t drink the milkshake and went way around when she was leaving so she didn’t have to pass by my table.
on the plus side, we asked the waiter to get the milkshake after they left and drank it ourselves. it was delicious.
hypothetically speaking - would any of you ladies be upset if you were at a diner having dinner with your friend, and a waiter came by with a milkshake that you didn’t order, saying “this gentleman two tables down got this for you”? no phone number, nothing else attached to it. just a milkshake.
good evening friends!
Florida is very sticky.
also, i will be going to Harry Potter world tomorrow, inshAllah. yeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
first order of business when arriving at a hotel? finding a glass to use as a makeshift lota.
Jummah Mubarak, kiddos.
have a great day inshAllah and i hope finals go swimmingly for you all. GRADES AREN’T EVERYTHING. IT WILL BE OKAY. (seriously, try to believe it).
enjoy your weekends. be good.
if i keep my heater on at night, I get too hot in bed and it’s uncomfortable.
but then if I turn the fan on to get comfy, I’m freezing in the morning.
so yes, I’m sleeping with both the heater and fan on.
I guess I could turn both off but somehow it’s not the same.
Love is like… happy. Light. Easy. And warm. It’s like you have this feeling of protectiveness in you, for another person. You have this space in your heart, like a container filled with all the good things you can think of and you want to give it all to this other person.
And you think about them almost all the time. You smile when you think about them. You grin when you hear from them. You laugh when you’re around them. You miss them when they’re not around and it terrifies you that they could ever leave. You start to plan things to do and you want to include them in it.
You close your eyes and you see them with you, and you’re just… happy.
Your heart swells, with all this hope that they’re also happy, and you’d do anything to make them happy.
And it just makes you smile to say that you love them, because it feels right to say it. You don’t even mind if you do it over, and over again.