~Freedom is the open window through which pours the sunlight of the human spirit and human dignity~

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Yasmeen:

News told, rumors heard, truth implied, facts buried, With so many ants telling bees how to make honey, I continued waiting for my divorce

It's almost a year since I left Ahmad's house, but here we are, still tied to each other.

I ask not for any crown, But that which I may win; Nor try to conquer any world except the one in which Ahmad is excluded. But it is proving to be impossible and the tears inside my heart felt as if they have filled my chest to the brim.

I am worried that I might never be free, that I will never see the end of this torture for I do not wish to confine my life's freedom to a prison of Ahmad's making.

I chose to keep my mouth shut and wait patiently, for half of seeming clever is keeping your mouth shut at the right times.

But these days, the memories of living with Ahmad has become a feeling that plagues my soul. His house was like an evacious cold and freezing environment incapable of sustaining life.

This is partly because he emerge from conditions of soul-killing abuse and of the life choices he has been forced to make by his family. His heart is now locked in the depth of the eternal abyss. In the cause of looking for a rescue, he ended up trapped in his own weaknesses

One of the discoveries I made when I was with him was that authority without wisdom is like a heavy axe without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish. And the soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.

Ahmad's grand finale, the one that says I'm sleeping with my brother Bilal is still stuck in my head and it hurts still the same even though it's been a while since I heard it

I stopped being surprised by his way of thinking when I realised he has always been like that haunted casualty who suffered irreparable damage in the crucible quest to impress his mother and sisters.

I couldn't help but feel so ashamed on his behalf. For his shame isn't a quiet grey cloud, it is now a drowning Ahmad who claws his way on top of me, scratching and tearing my skin, pushing me under the surface. There is nothing he could do to make me change my mind

My sister's loud exciting voice brought me out of my thoughts, she brought the most exciting news to me.

"Brother Bilal just called, he said Ahmad is ready to give you the divorce. They told me to come fetch you, they will be here in a minute" she said, excitedly.

I got dressed, draped my veil and quickly made my way to the living room. Upon entering, I saw a leaner, weaker and depressed Ahmad holding a piece of paper and a pen

With his mother's encouragement, manipulation and empty promises, she finally persuaded him to give me the divorce

And so he gasped in despair while he wrote, knowing everything is going to end.

"I Ahmad Aleey say talaq to my wife Yasmeen Muhammad once" Ahmad wrote, accompanied by a long apology and begging for my forgiveness, and how there is still chance for us getting back together because nobody knows the future. With great emphasis on the fact that he said talaq only once to me

And there it was, my divorce paper. The only thing that came to my mind when I held it was that I am finally free, that I can finally move on

Bilal is a man of many words, but he lost his words when he handed the divorce paper to me shortly after Ahmad's departure. Him and his wife tried so hard to console me, but I needed none of it.

"The divorce is nothing compared to the time spent waiting for it. Maybe If it had happened earlier, it might have been different. I might actually need consoling" I tried to explain to Bilal and his wife, but they just stared at me with gloomy eyes, clearly not convinced by my words

Honestly, the divorce meant nothing to me, It was as hollow as a motionless heart. When I finally left him after all these months, I feel nothing, and that is worse than any broken heart.

When Ahmad finally gave me the divorce, He felt like he had swallowed yeast, like whatever evil was festering inside him had doubled in size.

It was finally the end of us, With Ahmad, A hot mess. Clueless, like silverstone, Lump and quivers in his throat. We have reached the end of the road, and his mourning period has just begun.

He didn't know what was defeating him, but he sensed it was something he could not cope with, something that was far beyond his power to control or even at this point in time comprehend. And so it was the beginning of his karmic calamity.

All his faces were designed to express rage, loathing, cruelty, arrogance or ego. Now that something had happened which really deserved a face, he had none to celebrate it with.

He understood it was over, and he felt able to painfully let me go because of his mother's encouragement. He was sure our life together was something that had passed. And that passing, though it seemed impossible and he had fought against it would become part of him now, as surely as any memories I had left behind.

Time flames like a paraffin stove, and what burns are the minutes he lives.

Whatever he learned from ummy, Whatever he knew, Seems like those faded years of childhood that flew, Away in some dilemma, Always in some confusion. The purpose of his life seems like an illusion

When it finally happened, I was happy for 'Ummy' his mother, now she has Ahmad all to herself. She needed him more than I ever did, more than I ever will. Her life long dream has become a reality.

But her joy too was as fleeting as a shooting star that crossed the evening sky, ready to blink out at any moment. For her son Ahmad, Was desperate to have me back in his life again.

He became stubborn, refusing to let go. He threw his ego away and chased me everywhere just a few days after the divorce.

The foolishness of Ahmad chasing me ached his mother's heart. It was like her son was stuck between the moon and the shore and surrounded by an empty sea.

He stalked me on social media, on the street, on my way to work and back. He begged me to lend him a listening ear but I refused. It was too late, it's like I stuffed his mouth with his empty promises and watched him vomit them out upon his own face

Silence was all he received, he dread silence because it is transparent, like clear water, which reveals every obstacle, the used, the drowned, silence reveals the cast-off words and thoughts dropped in to obscure its clear stream. And when he stared too close to my silence he faces his own reflections, his magnified shadows in the depths, and that frightens him more

And there he was in the dark, like a mad man chasing a full moon behind the clouds, in search of the reflection of the light of love in me, daring to light up the spark of love left within me. It was nowhere to be seen, but he felt it was out there somewhere.

He kept chasing my shadows like they will pull him out of his darkness. As if he didn't know that wishes didn't come true when you chase after a star, as if he didn't know that some people are just not meant to be. His future will certainly not be found in his past with me

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