Assalamu'Alaikum Love

Fasting and Prayer

Fazas

The first day of the midterms was held, and I still acted as if everything was still fine and nothing big happened to me two days earlier. I can still work on econometrics subjects calmly and smoothly as I expected. Even though on the second hour exam, my feelings started to not get because of trivial things. Well, just because at the second hour I had to face your fiqh exam and I had to write Gibran Wibisana's name as a lecturer on my exam answer sheet.

And in fact, no matter how hard I try to be ordinary, things don't go as well as I think. The events of two days ago affected me so much that I felt like today I was reluctant to meet my college friends. Choose to walk immediately to the faculty of economics once my exam today has been completed. Leaving Hana who was looking at me did not understand as I left her just like that and went down the stairs with shaky steps.

“Today did not come ‘ya?” I muttered as I subconsciously held back a step in the parking lot of building one. Observe the rows of cars parked there and look for a white sports outlander that is familiar to me because I often observe it.

“It is fitting that I do not see it.”

I don't know, maybe people will call me crazy or a girl doesn't know herself because she wants to express feelings to a man when a kind man offers her a marriage.

Maybe people will say I'm stupid for wasting a man as good as Arifin while I'm just a 20-year-old girl whose college hasn't graduated. But then again, no one can truly understand the heart except Allah, the All-Turning. That's why I'm determined to confess that I'm keeping a taste for Mr. Gibran.

“At least you didn't hold back your feelings for too long and make you suffer on your own, deck.” I know that Revelation just wants me to be honest with myself, as well as with Mr. Gibran. About how Mr. Gibran will respond to my confession, it will be my business later.

“If we were indeed a match, I would have had a chance to say it.” I even muttered that phrase many times until the third day of the midterms was held. And until the third day I did not see Mr. Gibran on campus, nor did his car that I did not see parked in the parking lot of the building one where the man used to park his car.

“If until Friday we don't meet, I won't tell her about my feelings.”

Right, why did I realize that I had to set limits for myself and my own feelings? At least so that I can ascertain what steps after this I should take, also about how I should manage my feelings towards Mr. Gibran after this. Until Friday, at least I had to be strict with myself because I couldn't keep acting like a girl doesn't know myself by hanging on to Arifin's feelings.

“Maybe we are not a match.”

Friday morning, and I saw no sign of Mr. Gibran's presence on campus at all. Maybe the man was traveling out of town or somewhere because at the time of exams like this, there were no lectures held or activities on campus SMEs. So it is natural that a lecturer does not come to the campus during the exam as it is now.

And until Friday afternoon, after Friday prayers and I just got on the bus that I've been waiting for, from the opposite direction a sports outlander that some days I wait to enter the campus gate and pass to the parking lot. Just as I turned my head out the window of the bus and felt my chest that suddenly felt unusually tight.

Is this the answer to my request from Monday? Is this the time I should start forgetting how I feel about her?

“This is the answer to my request yes Allah?”

Breathing out later, I realized one thing that sometimes there are some things that I really have to give up even though I actually haven't had time to try. It is not that I do not deserve it, but that God has given me enough to signal that I have no value for such a great thing. Including about my feelings for Mr. Gibran. After this, I will learn how to let go of the feelings that I really have to give up.

“Enough you let go, Za. Insha Allah, Allah will heal your painful heart.”

* * * * *

I stared at the light green painted archway in front of me that was perfectly curved and displayed a row of several letters to form a name. The actual gate was familiar to me but since fifteen minutes ago it made me so emotional. It feels almost the same as it did ten years ago. As I looked up and spelled out the row of letters attached to this archway. Ten years ago, when my brother, mother and father of Revelation brought me to this place which I later called this place my second home.

‘Pondok Pesantren Darunnajjah.’

I subconsciously extended a faint smile before taking a deep breath and stepping through the archway. Smiling as my gaze caught some of the princess santri who were walking leisurely towards the main mosque while carrying their faces and books.

Feeling nostalgic without a plan, my eyes even warmed up when I remembered that three years ago I had also been like that. Walking from my room at the end of the building with Ainun and my other friends to the main mosque to perform the Ashar prayer and will only return to the room at nine o'clock.

Suddenly I missed a time when I was a santri and I was still so innocent as a 17-year-old girl. I miss Faza Aulia who has not been overpowered by feelings like this and Faza Aulia who has not known the opposite sex.

“Sowan to the cottage? Did you mean to Blora?” I still remember my shocked expression when I expressed my desire to visit the boarding school where I used to go. Friday night after unconsciously crying in the room after coming home from college and made me wonder why my eyes were so swollen like someone had just cried.

“Kangen cottage, mom. Want to be in touch with ummi Haidar and ummi Usammah as well.” it is not entirely the truth, but also not entirely a lie. I did miss my cottage and my two ummi there, but the strongest reason why I wanted to visit Blora was because I wanted to calm down. I want to pull over a few days there and calm my mind.

“You how many days? Isn't it tomorrow that your college is running as usual?” asked mom anxiously while putting a cup of coffee in front of my brother who was also watching me.

“It's okay. Tomorrow ask your mas to deliver until Blora.”

“Thank you, bah.”

And after hearing the miscellaneous advice from the Wahyu mas that led me to the front of the cottage archway, and let my older brother return to Surabaya without me, here I am now. Standing in front of an ivory-white painted house door that was once again familiar to me. Not much has changed since I last visited this house three years ago. Wooden doors painted white ivory, fern plants beside the house that is still well maintained. Also with pink rose plants that are getting higher and creeping up to reach the window. It's all still the same.

“Assalamu’alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh, Ummi.” My greetings when a woman in a light brown veil opens the door for me and replies to the greeting I said. Ummi Usammah, the middle-aged woman who replaced the role of mother for seven years I went here.

“Masyaa Allah, Faza? Oh my God, it's you, baby?” and I didn't wait until the minute changed to put my bag down and hug this woman. And really, I just realized that I really miss Ummi Usammah when I unconsciously my tears just fell without being able to hold back.

“Faza home, mi.”

_________

“Why is it like this, Za? Why are you hurting your own heart this way?”

Either because the inner bond between us is so strong, or this woman is too good at reading my facial features. Ummi Usammah can even guess why suddenly I can stand in front of the door of the house of the cabin caretaker without giving any news first. Listening to my story about the inner struggle I felt two months ago, about my feelings for Mr. Gibran, also about the application of Mr. Arifin. And again the ummi answer is the same as the advice that Ainun and Wahyu gave me.

“Za just don't want to hurt Arifin mas and also abah, mi.”

“It is precisely your attitude like this that will hurt them, dear. You received Arifin just because you pity, not because of love.” Again, I couldn't help but cry. “It's true that love can grow as you guys get together. But if from the beginning you accept Arifin out of pity, then can you distinguish in the future whether the feeling you have for her is a feeling of love, or just pity?”

Just because I feel sorry. Is it really like that? Is it true that I received Arifin's mas just because I feel sorry for her? I don't think so, because Arifin's brother and sister didn't even give me a chance to tell me how I really felt and just decided about our marriage. How can I say that I received Arifin's mas just out of pity if that man didn't ask me if I accepted it or not?

“Now answer ummi, Za. How sure are you to be with that guy named Gibran? Do you believe that his religion is good? Are you sure that he can respect you like he respects his mother?”

How sure am I of how I feel about Mr Gibran? I don't know myself. I only understood that my heart had been attached to it without me noticing and I had become self-tortured because of the feelings I had for her. I've been trying to quell my feelings, only I didn't know that putting out a feeling that was already burning was not easy.

“How far do you know that man named Gibran, Za?” tanya ummi Usammah again after a while I just fell silent without intending to answer her question.

“Not too much, mi. Besides about him who is a lecturer in my campus and we met four years ago at Cepu.” station

“Did he ever try to come into contact with you?”

“No, mi. Even since the first time we met, not once did Mr. Gibran attempt to make physical contact with me.”

Also true. Even when me and Mr. Gibran were in the same car the other day, I didn't see the man intending to make physical contact with me even though he could.

“Pak? How old is he until you call him ‘pak’, Za?” if Ummi Usammah was a complex mother who likes to sneak on the porch of the house, of course this woman will scream and give me a horrified look.

“28 years, mi. Of course I have to call him ‘pak’ because he is the one who passed on science to me.”

“Alagain for ummi liver problems can not be too far to interfere, Za.” Starting ummi again after a while we just fell silent and observed each other. “Ummi can only say that you believe Gibran is a man with a good staff and you are sure he can guide you, there is no harm in you telling him how you feel. After that, if you are a match, then Gibran will come to your brother and propose to you.”

“Then what about Arifin mas, mi?”

“From your story, ummi can draw conclusions if you have not received the proposal Arifin ‘kan? If you dare, tell Abah and Arifin that you cannot accept his proposal because you do not want to hurt Arifin.”

And the question now is, can I say such a big thing to Abah and Mas Arifin?

* * * *