It was surrender.
It was like giving way to possession. Giving way to a higher power. Allowing a spiritual force far greater than myself take control and command me.
He shrugged it off like a high school fantasy. But what did he know?
I was sunk.
Burned with holy fire.
And he could only dream it was just about him.
If it brings you peace, habibi, dream on.
It was as if I were staring at shattered glass. Every piece reflected a different angle of the same reality, but no matter how many I examined nothing could help me put them back together into something whole or conclusive.
But sometimes the truth is like that. Shattered, varied and impossible to grasp, at least not without cutting yourself.