Below is something I wrote a few years ago (maybe 2008?). I can however, remember the feeling like it was yesterday. Here's to share for all those who fight against the flowing river of social/cultural limitations.
You have your religion and I have mine. Is that why I’m so scared?
For condemning and putting down those who use religion as…… a standard- am I setting my own standards?
Do you follow?
The practice?
Do I? No. I know I don’t…. and I don’t care that you DON’T pray. But is it strange that I’d care if you did? Would you- EVER?
Does that hold me back? I separated myself from those who see you as “one of them”.
Until someone I love showed me you ARE one of them! But then, wouldn’t I be one of them for you too?? Doesn’t that term separate us, when all we want is for us to be one.
If I said I loved you, wouldn’t that be enough? Love. Emotions. Completion. Satisfaction. If I take away the flooded river of traditions, values… DIFFERENCES… all I see is you. One single entity. Ali.
Ali. Ali. Ali.
A name with so much effect. Not in its meaning, but in its origin.
MUSLIM. Hurts, doesn’t it?
It hurts to write it. Muslim. Muslim. MUSLIM.
You gave so much away to my family that was trying to protect me. But, now that I don’t have you, I wonder… what were they trying o protect me from? A name? A name…. Your name! Because that is ALL they knew. Your name. Ali. Muslim. Hurts…….
It hurts that I am too afraid to find out if they are right or wrong. It hurts that I am scared.
Everyone says that I have eliminated a million fights that I would have, by not being with you… how is this true? When the hardest fight… the biggest struggle, is to not be with you at all?
Ali…… I do love you. And I love your name.
Ali. Muslim. One.
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