My baby. My manhood.

I have never written about love on nefisa before. This humans diary always dodged the concept of romantic love. I have been brave enough by admitting many things in this diary before, but never this brave. I didn't want to admit that I was in love, for one thing, because it seemed like something that was out of place to talk about, I am a conservative about these sorts of things, even if I was sure it was going to end in marriage and a family. The truth is however; love inspired so much of what I do on nefisa. Love for my passion, love for the woman I had always thought was going to be my wife, and most of all love for the One who gave me all these things, God.

Right now, my passion has deserted me, probably because I lost the love of my life and the emotions swelling up inside me are taking away from all the possibilities of having that clear, calm head that I need to make something truly original, something fresh. Having been involved in a relationship for almost 4 years, almost half of which have been long distance, between here and the Middle East, I had gained so much confidence. It was what spurred me on for my all of my ideas, and most of all in life, in university, in music-related groups of people, in social-circles, no matter what the situation, I always felt more confident, more capable, than those around me because I knew, even if she was thousands of miles away, that there was someone out there who loved me, who I loved in return, and who only had eyes for me. That kind of knowledge in your heart, makes a man strong, content, makes him feel like he can take on the world most of the times, because all we ever really want is something solid in our lives, something to rely on.

But things aren't always reliable. As I am finding out now, things don't always happen in the way you expect, and as I'm sure other people have found with me in the past, I haven't always been the most logical person. Love isn't rational, but more importantly, humans aren't rational. One can feel love for someone and still do some very stupid things, one can feel love and still be cold to the person they love, I have done it, and I have now had it done to me. Most importantly though, and I cannot state this enough, for me, my love always helped me make sense of the world, always gave me my confidence, knowing that any other man would kill to have such a beautiful soul by their side, and knowing that she would never leave my side or think about another human being but me, it gave me the kind of soft, forgiving arrogance in my abilities that defined my life, until this point.

I had struggled to sleep last night, breathing in as deep as possible and trying to focus on remembering my parents smiles, being with them, my mother stroking my head as she used to when I was young (and as she still does when I give her the chance) my fathers thick and hairy arms around my chest. The absolute innocence of all that I ever knew before this pure love came and separated me from everything, from them, from everyone but her, and made my life beautiful, and now turned it upside down. I was awoken suddenly by God in time for the morning prayer, although I did not intend to wake up at all. There I was in darkness with my eyes suddenly blinking, not feeling as bad as I had when I had somehow drifted off to sleep. The cloudy memory of the past 24 hours was not so immediately felt in my shaky stomach and beating heart. I was calm, and after a few minutes I got up and washed my hands, washed my whole self in the bathroom sink, and came back to pray in my room. Putting my head down to the floor and asserting the truth of my gratefulness to God for the life I have been given, I noticed something surreal, which I can't put into words easily. My arms. Something to do with my arms, and the hair on my arms, and something about them that indicated who I was, my true self, which I had mostly forgotten these last 4 years. It was as if the roots of my arm-hairs, under my skin, where the deepest parts of me, and I had spent the last 4 years trying to help the love of my life by offering her the tips, the shallowest ends of the wisdom in those arm hairs. I had neglected the deepest side of me because I was not me, I was two people, we were one, and her problems had become mine.

As I returned to bed I thought more about it. And I knew that despite the whirlwind of thoughts that would soon start turning my stomach around and causing me pain and tears, (which has already begun this morning as I type) that there was something there that offered a window of hope. A window of possibility. God reminded me of my extreme depth, the total depth that I have for so long been unaware of. The kind of depth that would allow me to learn ancient Arabic and recite the beautiful Qu'ran without having that unconfident voice in my head saying "It'll never happen", the kind of depth that would allow me to interact and contribute in discussion with the most intellectual people on this planet without that voice inside my head saying "you don't really know what you're saying", the kind of depth that would allow me to write even more obscure things, make the most obscurely deep music that only a certain few people might ever truly appreciate. In a way most of what I have put on nefisa, and so much of what I have done creatively has been dumbed down, made easy and simple for the majority of people to understand and comprehend. That's always been because I believe (and always will I hope) that art needs to be grounded in society, and you need to be able to relate to people.

Whatever this depth is though, I have never truly explored it all the way. I haven't ever had the peace of mind or freedom to soul-search THAT deep, and considering how much time I spend in reflection every day, I'm pretty sure that most people, never get the chance to reflect that deep. And whilst I get over this pain over the next few months, of losing the one whose love gave my life nearly all of its meaning, I will need to get in touch with that deepest part of me. I will need to explore that substance, those unseen impulses, elements, that have always made me an unbelievably gifted human being. And it's no coincidence that the realisation of this door to infinity came to me as I was praising the One who created me. It's no accident that I have always felt the desire to deepen my knowledge of God and the spiritual issues of life, which go far beyond the six senses of logic, but it is no coincidence that this has only been made possible by God when I was truly humbled. This path is only available for the man who has truly lowered himself, or been lowered by God, as I have been. I am not that same confident man anymore, so sure of my brilliance, so sure that my true love would be dedicated to me forever. I am now a humbled human walking around in this darkest of dark places, my bedroom as my enemy, my sleep as my enemy, and unable to even taste food. But through facing all of this directly, and through reminding myself of the Qu'ran when it says "On no soul does Allah place a burden greater than it can bear", I will see past the darkness alone, continue my search alone. To the gardens of Paradise.

Y.Misdaq,
March 29, 2005 / Safar 18, 1426