Til Death Do Us Part
How many years have you been writing in this journal?
I'm sitting alone in a summer biology class. There are a multitude of new names and faces to match, a whole channel of information you would've never anticipated learning. But that's just life. You have all your life to be surprised. It's almost time to start expecting the unexpected now. Things are very, very different.
You've taken up a new name and a new identity. Ilyas Ashar Hernandez.
You're a Muslim now, but you're not sure if you're happy still. You have a whole new community of friends and family. Write these memories down.
You lost your wallet at McDonalds with Karo, and rode a grueling bike ride down the 606 to get it back. Your closest friend at the moment is a guy you've never met and you call him Kemo, though his name is actually Mohammed Taha Ahmed. You trusted a sister named Hanan and she turned out to be a total bitch, but you don't hate her. At least you don't think you do. You've put yourself between two relationships: Osama (Obama) and Khadijah (Deej), and Atif (Toof) and Benish (Beans). They're very parallel and you've spent a lot of your time learning to love them both and learning more about relationships in Islam. You've learn to love and let go. Something happened with your feelings but now you're becoming a different person and it's hard to reconcile that. You want to establish yourself but you're somewhere from beginning to end of becoming a new person and establishing a new identity so you have no idea where to go from here.
You've learned a lot and memorized a lot. You have so much more to learn and memorize.