Bruises, whether they be physical, mental or emotional, all hurt. They hurt like there is no greater pain, they hurt like the world is going to end and they hurt like you could never do it again. But we do, we get back up and we do it all over again, feel the same pain again, rebuild ourselves once again, only to do it all over again. It doesn’t end. That’s the point. This life is just a temporary life, it’s not what we are meant for and that’s why we feel so much pain. You can’t protect yourself. Living is to be bruised. Everyone will eventually hurt you, bruise you, they will kiss and make it better but it will still be there, there where you think it doesn’t exist, there where it will lie dormant for years.

I keep thinking what is the point of all this pain? Honestly I am sometimes plagued by a sudden longing for the end of my life. Wouldn’t it be so much better to not need to deal with all this? Wouldn’t it be so much better if we could forget the fresh bruises and the scars from the past?

Some where along the line, living in my protected bubble I forgot that people can be mean. People can and will hurt you. And as the cliché lines go, it’s our job to make sure they are worth all that pain. I think if you must love, one must love earnestly, selflessly, unconditionally, and if you must hurt, you must for those who would be there when the dust settles, those who would appreciate you, love you and protect you.

Lately I’ve been analysing the beautiful people in my life. The people that make it worth living. I had forgotten their value and how good it felt to be with them. I had grown unappreciative towards them. They are those people who I would hurt for because I know they are there. Of course, all this doesn’t still change the fact that at the end of the day I would rather have bruised knees from kneeling to my Lord than have a bruised heart from getting too close to people. But a part of me believes that the bruises that we accumulate is what draws us closer to Allah, it’s what shows us how imperfect humans are and how only Allah’s love is pure and infinite. I know it is because of the bruises that my heart suffered that I was able to understand how important Allah (swt) is to me and my well being. I know if anything those bruises only made me crave to be closer to Him more.

Something my Husband taught me was that bruises and scars do heal. They don’t go away, they will always act as a constant reminder to what happened, but they heal. They won’t hurt as bad as they used to, eventually you will care less, and someday insha’allah, they will disappear.

I suppose I should say Alhamdulillahu alaa kulli haal and be happy.


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