Friendship
Love Story
The train rumbled through the countryside, its passengers oblivious to the danger lurking among them. When Sophia met the mysterious stranger, she felt an inexplicable sense of unease. As the journey progressed, she found herself drawn into a web of intrigue, her life hanging in the balance.
By Tariq Pathan about a year ago in Confessions
Why Does the Universe Ask more of me than most?
What I survived one does not talk about out of curtesy of others. It is socially inapriprate and one must cage the situation with caution because of social norms I soppose. People naturally can only handle so much. But naturally as a neurodivergent person I struggled to understand a social ques. Problem? I have no filter, and I am as bizarre as they come. I know people judge me to be quite odd or eccentric, for being to open. However, having cerebral palsy in the early 2000's made me a social outcast and I had zero social skills and no impulse control. When you are born with cerebral palsy there is damage to the frontal lobe and that really affects who you become in regards to your personality. I blame this reason alone for being such a bold person, Also people with disabilities ( I am sorry to be so honest) are stronger than the rest of population by the laws of the survival of the fittest. They have more tenacity and grit then you could ever imagine. You dont know how strong you have to be in life until you are given no choice or alternative. Naturally as a result, we face life fearlessly and with a kind of strength and courage no one could define unless they had a disability.Please keep in mind that I am very aware that everyone has a disability of certain severity, and in reality we are all disabled. However, it seems to be the case that more more "soul strength" is required of the people that are severely disabled and have very heavy bodies more sickly bodies with limited mobility. I was contently frustrated ands in a state of mental and physical exhaustion and still you must do what the world demands of you. I cannot tell you how many times I have pleaded in complete mercy to God, " Why are you asking me to do the impossible everyday- I'm tired."People always assumed I lived with my parents, live in a group home or some institution- and were shocked to learn I live on my own. When I am in a hospital, I feel helpless at times because the doctor and nurses assume I am incompetent regarding my care and condition of my health. They also talked to me and treated me differently. I remember them begging to treat my skin infection on my foot before it naturally enntered my bloodsteam and I found myself bedbound again due to extreme weakness. No one listened and I was asked to take anibiotics for weeks untuil the problem spiralled out of control and required hospitalization. Sometimes I arrived so overwelmed by the inflection I was no longer able to walk with my walker. I was using everything I had to make it to the ER in hopes I would be nursed back to health. But they always discharged me and I was always worried if my body was strong enough to make it home. These were dark times, it really did make me belief that my life had lost all of its quaility and I lived in a constant state of suffering and agony. I did not have my motorized wheelchair at the time and all I had to make it in the world was my walker. But due to illness I could no longer walk safely, and it seemed to also rob me of my balance and stability. But still I was told to take the antibiotics that were not working and sent home only to decline rapidly over time over and over requiring hospitalization. I had lost complete and utter hope and honestly thought I would showily die of an infection over a long sufferuing time period.But I had always been a fighter and suviver, I was not the type to just lay down and die, I was young and still had a life to live! I learned through research that the simple act of putting vasicine on my toes would end my horrific wounds and elevate the problem. I worked with specialists, wound care nursews and endless doctors and no one offered a solution or an answer to why it was happening. They only threw pills at me. Meanwhile the wound nurses were making the problem worse my putting thick bandages on my feet that only caused them to rub together more. It honestly stabs me in the heart recalling this time in my life. I felt subhuman to the healthcare system and neglected terribly.
By Julia Stellingsabout a year ago in Confessions
Call Me By Your Name Again
Luca remembered the summer when everything changed. He was only seventeen when he met Adrien — a visiting French artist who arrived in Luca’s small Italian town to work on a mural for the local museum. Adrien had curly hair, sun-warmed skin, and a laugh that made strangers smile. Luca never believed in love at first sight until Adrien stepped off that train.
By Solene Hartabout a year ago in Confessions
Venus Buried
The girl in the graveyard is your best friend, so you take her home. The night is a bruise between you, a blotch of rogue in the passenger window; the colour of fruit left out to fester. The body pries at her seatbelt, a finger, then two. The radio echoes static, the body shuffles in her seat. You study the face; the similar slice of jaw, the nose humped from where a baseball had hit her at twelve, just slightly off centre. The skin like a rain-licked plastic bag. The stink of musk and sulphur. You want to look away but you cannot. She's so beautiful, even like this. Your headlights rake warbled slits through the dirt road, a yellow like jaundice. Your hands are stiff from the cold, your lips cracked. The girl beside you is dead and you are bringing her home.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Confessions
From Jealousy to Gratitude. AI-Generated.
For years, I was at war — not with the world, but with my own heart. On the outside, I lived a quiet life. I greeted others with a smile, said “MashaAllah” when someone shared good news, and nodded during reminders about being thankful. But inside, I was burning with silent jealousy — not because I hated others, but because I couldn't understand why their lives were moving forward while mine remained still. I didn’t envy wealth or fame. What hurt was watching people around me receive the very things I made dua for — a peaceful marriage, stable income, health, ease, barakah. My best friend got married to someone she loved. My cousin received a scholarship abroad. My neighbor opened her second business. And me? I felt left behind, like I was in a room full of doors — each one opening for someone else while I sat quietly, waiting for mine to unlock. Every unanswered dua felt like a rejection. Every scroll through social media reminded me of how much I didn't have. I tried to stay silent. I didn’t want to be ungrateful. But my heart grew heavy. Sometimes I would cry after making dua, not because I had no hope — but because I feared Allah was displeased with me. That perhaps, I wasn’t worthy of His favors. Then, one day, something small — yet powerful — changed everything. At a family gathering, my young niece came running to me with a wide smile. She handed me a poorly drawn flower on a crumpled piece of paper and said, “I made this for you, Khala!” It was uneven, childlike, and simple — but it was hers, and it was from love. I smiled, hugged her tightly, and thanked her again and again. Her eyes lit up, and she skipped away happily. That night, I sat alone thinking: I accepted her small gift with so much joy — not because it was perfect, but because of the love behind it. And then it struck me — What if Allah accepts our duas the same way? Not because they are eloquent or perfectly timed, but because they come from sincerity. And just like I didn’t compare her flower to professional art, maybe Allah doesn’t compare our journey to someone else’s. That single moment opened my heart. That night, I prayed two rak’ahs of Salat-ul-Tawbah, with real tears. I asked Allah to cleanse my heart from the jealousy that was eating away at my peace. I made dua for my friends’ happiness. I thanked Allah for things I had been ignoring — clean water, a roof, a healthy body, the ability to pray. I started keeping a small gratitude notebook. Every night before bed, I wrote five things I was thankful for — even if they seemed small: My mother’s warm chai. The fact that I could walk without pain. A quiet, undisturbed fajr. A friend who checked in. The sweetness of a ripe mango. At first, it felt like I was just going through the motions. But within a week, I noticed something: my heart was lighter. The tightness in my chest, that invisible burden, started to lift. I was beginning to see beauty even in stillness. Jealousy had narrowed my vision, but gratitude widened it. And then something else happened — Allah opened a door. I was offered a small opportunity to work from home doing something I loved — nothing glamorous, but enough to bring peace and purpose. I realized it wasn’t just a job — it was an answer. Not to what I had asked, but to how I had changed. It wasn’t that shukr brought me success — it brought me sukoon. And in that sukoon, I found the strength to do more, to try harder, to love deeper, and to trust fully. 🌿 What I Learned Jealousy is like a shadow. You may not see it clearly, but it follows you, weighs on you, and makes even blessings look dull. Shukr is like light. It doesn't just brighten your path — it shows you that the path itself is a gift. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said: > “Look at those below you, and do not look at those above you, for this is more likely to keep you from belittling the blessings Allah has bestowed upon you.” (Sahih Muslim) And in the Qur’an, Allah promises: > "If you are grateful, I will surely increase you." (Surah Ibrahim 14:7) I had spent so much time asking why them, that I forgot to say Alhamdulillah for me. But Allah, in His mercy, didn’t punish me for that. He guided me through it — softly, gently, beautifully. Today, I still make dua for things I desire — but I no longer carry jealousy in my hands. I carry trust. I no longer compete silently in my heart. I rest in the belief that whatever is meant for me will come — in Allah’s time, not mine. And until then, I will say: Alhamdulillah. Always.
By Kaleem Ullahabout a year ago in Confessions
The One Who Switched Up First
I thought we were solid. Like, for real. Me and him? We grew up side by side, went through the same BS, laughed at the same dumb jokes, walked to school every day like it was our little routine. People used to call us twins — not ‘cause we looked alike, but ‘cause our bond looked unbreakable.
By Mic Henryabout a year ago in Confessions
The One Mistake From My 20s That Still Haunts Me.
In my memory, my twenties are a collection of sun-drenched, overexposed photographs. They smell of cheap beer, instant noodles, and the intoxicating, reckless optimism that we were on the verge of something incredible. At the center of almost every one of those snapshots is Maya.
By Enes Özabout a year ago in Confessions
Don’t Forget to Check on the Strong Ones
They say I’m the strong one. The dependable one. The one you call when you need to cry, need a ride, need advice, need anything. I’ve worn that label like armor for as long as I can remember. “You’re so resilient,” they tell me. “You always seem to have it all together.” And I smile. Nod. Offer reassurance.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Confessions
What You Should Know About Dateromances Before Signing Up. AI-Generated.
When looking for meaningful interactions online, it's easy to get lost in the sea of dating platforms that promise everything from casual chats to deep emotional bonds. Dateromances is one such platform that claims to focus on heartfelt communication across global distances. If you're wondering whether to invest your time (and potentially money) here, I’ve taken the time to explore the site myself and share a realistic, no-fluff breakdown.
By Tracy Larsonabout a year ago in Confessions
