Fakhrul and I are married.
The wedding was wonderful, at my house where I was brought up and now where I was given away. The decor was beautiful, more than I could’ve asked for. The dresses I wore were dreams came true. The friends were there, making our happy day a more meaningful one. After all those sleepless nights, who would’ve thought it would end up so perfectly like this.
At one point all brides have to go through that time, that exact second they told her they were bringing her out and she started to freak out. She hesitated not about the man, but about the things she was going to leave behind. Her sister and brother’s face and that childhood memory, her best friend’s face and that friendships ever so real that helped her went through bad times, her parent’s face when she only belonged to them.. everything she ever knew about her life will be left off to embark a new one with this man.
But when I saw Fakhrul’s face waiting for me, I was sure. I couldn’t hesitate a moment and waited patiently for his lafaz to be heard, and then I was his wife. I cried not thinking of those things anymore, whatever that was mine will still be mine but for now there will be this one man for me, insyAllah for as long as I live.
So here I am with a man on my bed. With a man by my side that I can touch and cuddle as I please. With a man I’ve longed to be mine and myself to be his. I cannot even begin to describe the relief of having to finally be man and wife, to not having to restrict my love for him with just words anymore. This is the bliss, I understand that now.