I Feel Like I Imagined Everything.

The title says it. Why is this hitting me tonight?

I know I am stating the obvious- but everything was in my head.

This entire story.

Rafiq and I.

Him being my soul mate.

Me going to Pakistan.

Him reaching out to me.

Us having a reunion.

Getting married.

Having kids.

.......

Nothing is real.

And I know I am stating the obvious, but how could I be this delusional? How did I build an entire life in my head that has no physical evidence?

For the past eight months, I’ve been living inside a story I created.

One life is my actual reality- where nothing is happening.

The second life is the one in my head- where somehow, magically, Rafiq and I end up together.

And tonight it’s hitting me.

None of this is real.

If we look at the past 8 months- absolutely nothing has happened. Actually the only thing that happened is Rafiq getting divorced. Other than that- nothing.

There's no contact. I wouldn't even know if this guy is dead or alive. That's how silent it has been. Secondly, I have no plans of going to Pakistan. I have been secretly hoping, wishing, and praying to Allah that I end up there somehow.. but the reality is- it's not happening.

There's no plan for Iran.

No ticket.

Nothing.

I’ve secretly been hoping, wishing, praying that somehow I end up there. That somehow Allah orchestrates it. But the reality? There is nothing in motion.

What's even more stupid is how I have been living in my fantasy world where Rafiq and I end up together.. I have imagined everything.. conversations, declarations of love, families meeting, me flying there, our wedding day, what I would wear, how we would look, who would attend our wedding, our babies....

I’ve lived inside scenes that don’t exist.

And I’m embarrassed admitting that.

There was only one thing- that unveiling. That moment Allah showed me something. And it felt real to my bones. Allah knows it did. But if nothing materializes in my actual life, then no unveiling can override reality.

What is written in my kismat and naseeb will unfold in front of my eyes. It will not live only in imagination.

It will not exist only in longing.

It will not depend on intensity alone.

And it definitely will not survive solely inside a fantasy.

I am tired.

I am tired of fantasizing

I am tired of imagining.

I am tired of pretending.

I am tired of hoping.

I am tired of wishing.