Emails I sent to A.

While in these emails I seem to have some understanding about the circumstances the reality of it is that I was fighting through what I felt must have been delusions. While I felt them to be delusions, I also had no real anchor in reality, and my mind kept going back and forth on various possibilities. While I was embarassed about the number of emails I was sending, those emails helped me rule out some of the possibilities, and furthered my understanding in an existentially charged experience.

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I said I will stop writing to you. I feel excessive writing again, but then I wonder, how is it that no one on that end feels just as excessive, for denying me something as simple as healing? I kept hoping each email I sent would be my last, because I was needing, and hoping for this to end, and because I was afraid you will think, and believe all sorts of things about me. I seem to live in constant fear you won't understand, or see how much I've been struggling.

I wrote something, and as my feelings fluctuated, I kept changing it up. It was constantly like this, because no matter what I write, I always end up feeling something's not quite right, or worry you will misinterpret what I wrote. I just realized where this feeling, that is surely excessive, comes from; this fear of being misinterpreted. And then I worry I will say, or do something wrong, and I will be disproportionately punished for it. And then I worry that no matter what I do won't be good enough anyways, because you won't even try to understand where I am coming from. I realise I kept falling into the trap of trying to explain myself, because I constantly worried you would either see something that isn't, or just not see things for what they are. And the sad part about that, is that I still find myself having difficulty expressing all of this. More often than not, there is this lump in my throat, and I just end up struggling expressing all of this.

I needed the limbo I've been through to end, and this past year and a half, I kept going back and forth on the possibilities, because I needed to understand, because I didn't want to be unfair to either of us, and because I am only interested in the truth and nothing less will do. I am embarrassed about the manner in which I expressed myself, and for plenty of the behaviours I engaged in. I was mentally and emotionally overwhelmed to a degree I haven't experienced before. I also believe that had you communicated with me early on, regardless of what I was to find, while I wouldn't have failed to stand up for myself, I would have done so in a kinder, and more composed way, even from such a mentally and emotionally overwhelming space. I really dislike most of it, which is why I find myself trying to write yet another that reflects what I truly believe, and how I truly feel about it all, in a more coherent manner. As far as this being disrespectful towards your relationship, I never meant to do such a thing at any point. When I sent that Goodbye email, I was aware you were in a relationship, and I said Goodbye, because I understood you were in a relationship. I also realise that I do not owe that much respect to people who knew I was suicidal, to people who knew the stress I was going through contributed to a MS flare. I don't owe that much, when I was constantly refused healing from a traumatic experience that was built on unfairness. I don't owe that much, when I am still having anxiety attacks. It was only several nights ago that I woke up at 2am with what I can only assume was an anxiety attack, and paced around my apartment until 4am trying to soothe myself. Besides, while I do love you, I am both allowed to feel whatever it is that I feel, and I never once asked you to love me, to want me, to be with me.

After all that happened those two nights we met, I did understand your pain. And because I understood your pain, and because I believed your feelings were genuine when we met, I thought it was possible you were awaiting some sort of palpable evidence from me, that we do have the same soul, and that the second night we met had nothing to do with you being Muslim, and I understood that. I understood my story sounds insane, I understood how you must have felt that second night, and I understood we simply had different experiences. Because of the general confusion, and fear I was experiencing, because I was aware how insane my story sounded, a story to which you had already reacted poorly, and because I didn't remember much from our interactions, I constantly felt like my hands were tied. What I ended up doing was to try to explain myself, to constantly second guess my reasoning regarding the nature of our connection, and to deconstruct my relationship with racism, and Islamophobia. It was my constant second-guessing, and questioning that ended up triggering the vast majority of my memory back into my awareness. And while I understood your pain, and your reaction, I can't help, but feel you were unfair knowing I was simply being honest with you that night. I tried to move on many times, but it wasn't until much later that I realized I was unable to do so because our connection remained unresolved.

In regards to my memory, while I realised from the very beginning I had quite a few gaps, I became aware of the extent of how much I forgot only later on. My memories from mere dreams I had had at 12&17yo were far more vivid than what I was remembering from the two nights we met. If I failed to mention my missing memory, it was because I didn't want you to believe I was piling onto S.'s accusations. I wasn't trying to hide my missing memory either, or to pretend things were different than they were. I just didn't think it would be a good idea to go over it in an email.

I considered calling you earlier on, but since you kept disappearing, and kept leaving me on read, I let go of that idea, and kept it to emails. I felt they were less intrusive, and figured you needed some space. Afterwards, it felt too late, and no longer right to call. I wanted to stop writing to you plenty of times. I wrote many emails trying to explain myself - emails I never sent. My constant attempts to try to explain where I was coming from were what helped me process this entire thing.

In 2017, I had no intention of sending yet another email, but then I remembered that war dream, and ended up writing again. I didn't feel comfortable sharing that dream with you, after the way you reacted that second night, but I hoped that maybe one thing, will lead to another. Since I seemed to have a 'track record' when it comes to precognition, I believed that was something you should know, and something you should be mindful of, because I would really hate to know that even on the off chance that was going to happen, I could have maybe helped keep you just a little safer, but I did nothing about it. I find it funny that email got sent last year, as I had been waiting to share that with you since 2017, but I never knew how.

The entirety of this experience was traumatic for me, and I believe it was only natural I would seek to understand, so I could heal from it. No matter what you believed of me, or how you saw me, I was saying I believed we have the same soul. I didn't say that to you, because I was trying to 'wake' you up to that reality; the true and objective reality; a reality I found myself wanting to deny lately, as I like to believe I deserve better than this. I was trying to share that with you, the second night we met, but you never let me get there. I was trying to share that with you, since I kind of thought you would be as thrilled as I was, because I was honestly over the moon. I was trying to share that with you, because you left me with the impression you fell in love with me. My mentioning it afterwards via email, came as an attempt to try to explain myself, because I was hoping you will see you were being unfair to me, and I was still hoping you wanted me, just as much as I wanted you.

Despite knowing what it all was about for me, because I failed to remember a good chunk of our interactions, I constantly found myself unable to adequately defend myself, and felt the best I could do was to say that nothing that happened between us had anything to do with prejudice. While I believed this to be true, because you never reacted, because I was feeling guilt towards you, the other half of my soul, for having engaged in Islamophobic rhetoric in the aftermath of a sexual assault, and because I hadn't yet fully felt through my relationship with Islamophobia, I found myself fearing that maybe something Islamophobic transpired from my subconscious; something I couldn't remember. In trying to resolve that fear, I ended up deconstructing the entirety of my relationship with racism, and Islamophobia. It's funny, because that entire second night I had a total of two thoughts to do with you being Muslim, both quite late into the night. Your Muslimness wasn't something I was concerned with, and I simply didn't look at you like that. You were never Abbas the Muslim man to me; you were Abbas, a man who happened to be Muslim. One of those two thoughts I had regarding you being Muslim was a single thought, and it was intrusive in nature; the other was a train of thoughts. Both were triggered by you incessantly implying I had an issue with you being Muslim. The train of thoughts happened after your cousin came home. Since you just kept bringing it up, no matter how many times I said it had nothing to do with it, I felt forced to try to apply to you every single Muslim stereotype I could think of. The worst of them. There weren't that many to begin with, but I wanted to see if that was a fit for my fears. The only reason I wanted to see if that was the case was because I was trying to 'humor' you. What I concluded was that even if you were the worst, and most horrible Muslim man I could think of, that would have been much too worldly/earthly to match the fear I was experiencing.

My aim that second night was to try to show you why I believed we have the same soul. I was incredibly scared, but while that was the case, I was very much aware that every single fear I had about you stemmed from my labelling those dreams as nightmares, and from labelling you, the man from those nightmares, the Devil. There was no awareness of you being Muslim in either of my dreams; therefore, that couldn't have been in my unconscious either. In one of those two dreams, I did observe your ethnicity, although there was no association between your ethnicity and Muslim. It was also in that dream that I had a thought my then-consciousness was afraid fell into fetishisation territory. It wasn't the case, but that's beyond the point. I only remembered this part late last year, but in one of those two dreams, you did share your social, and political views with me. That was your way of making me feel safe, and it was one of the reasons I believed you to be too good to be true in my dream. I think I even said to you that I don't really believe you are like that, or something along those lines anyway, and we ended up having a brief exchange about it. Your worldview was clearly a part of my unconscious mind, and despite the lack of memory of this part of my dream, I became convinced your worldview couldn't be any different than mine soon after we met. While I believed this had to be the case, it wasn't something I knew to be true either, so it didn't feel appropriate to show that side of myself in my emails to you.

Lotte's question 'Where are you from?' had me thinking your very obvious British accent was from a different part of UK. I only understood the question when I saw your reaction. I remember you accusing me of trying to stop you from being violent, which didn't even cross my mind. My gesture was an attempt to comfort your displeasure at such a question, displeasure I completely understood. I feel it's important to add that the moment Lotte asked that question, I hadn't yet thought about us having the same soul. For the most part of the evening, I was mostly preoccupied with what was going on with them. My point is that whatever thoughts I had, or didn't have of you weren't driven by the idea that we have the same soul, either.

Another thing I want to add is the fact that after we met, I thought that were you to have a similar spiritual experience to mine that would be the unequivocal proof we have the same soul. I felt guilty for even thinking that, and I didn't want to do that to you, so I figured there must be other ways of reaching knowing on the matter.

I went over every single thing in my memory regarding my relationship with Muslimness, and I also deconstructed the entirety of my relationship with racism. I would be uncomfortable labelling myself, but I feel it would be safe to say that the reality of it is that there was a very clear pattern of behaviour, with very few exceptions to it. I found that while I grew up in an environment that was conducive to racist, and prejudiced views in general, I seem to have reacted by going in the opposite way. I feel that the positives in both thoughts, feelings and emotions, as well as behaviors outweigh the negatives by far. I will though mention that, because I became afraid I could be an Islamophobe, I became more conscious, and aware of my thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and perceptions in regards to, and around Muslim people in the year before we met. I remember making sure I observed, and didn't overlook the positives of the Muslim community I lived around, as I did my best to make sure I treated each, and every Muslim person, as I would treat members of any other group, as individuals first, and foremost. I had a tendency to analyse my interactions with Muslim people, as I didn't want to be biased, but I was being mindful to not try to overcompensate either. I also remember that before my spiritual experience I was listening to Imams' advice alongside spiritual figures from other theological/spiritual philosophies.

More likely than not, we grew up in vastly different environments, and I believed earlier on, that yours was likely more loving than mine was. Besides, a man's experience through life is wildly different from a woman's, and you got to be nurtured in ways I never was, as I was nurtured in ways you never were. I get to be pretty, and when I don't fit those social standards of what is physically aesthetically acceptable, I hardly have any value. I did get to be intelligent, although never as intelligent as I am, and surely not as intelligent as the men around me. I get to be an angry, too sensitive, and difficult woman when I express discomfort with how I am treated. I get to be too much, and not enough at the same time. I get to be emotional. And the whole view on feelings, and emotions society has is one of the most irrational patriarchy perpetuated. The irony of irrationality being an actual truth, when it comes to views on feelings and emotions, and the patriarchy. And even if you & I were nurtured differently, I always found nature was very much apparent in both of us. I never believed we were any different, quite the opposite. I was at the direct opposite end of othering vs inclusion/belonging throughout all of our interactions.

I always knew, and understood we have the same soul, but I ended up constantly questioning my reasoning. It was the constant questioning that eventually triggered all the memories back into my awareness. Every time I thought I found a gap in my reasoning, I was reminded of yet another detail that would end up closing that gap. It went like this until there were no gaps left. Even if lately, I found myself wanting to deny we have the same soul, I am always drawn back to the reality of it. I am always drawn back to the amount of evidence that says the very same thing. I only ever needed to know what I am supposed to accept, so I can be done with it.

I was only ever interested in the truth of the matter. Was I supposed to accept that the other half of my soul loved, didn't love me, or was it all just a lesson? While some of the possibilities would have been more painful than others, either would have been fine for me, because I believed there would be value in all possible scenarios.

It's my fault too I guess, because I second-guessed my reasoning when there was nothing to second-guess. God/The Divine being involved, indicating a spiritual/divine connection. God's Love being present, and fresh within my soul, which meant I could only attract Love. An understanding into the natures of Love and Fear. My biggest fear being triggered. Probably your biggest fear being triggered. Unusual circumstances at the moment of meeting. Almost instantaneous connection, something that never happened to me before. Difference in cultures, spirituality, and overall environment. And to top it all off, I dreamt of you in my asleep state 12&17 years before we met. Everything I had once read to indicate the presence of the other half of one's soul was there.

I am still finding myself fascinated by the fact that I desired you even in my awake state, 12 years before actually meeting you. I understand that's crazy to even imagine, let alone believe it, and yet it happened. I vividly remember that dream, and the events surrounding it, as the dream was traumatic in itself. I remember how in looking for information on tantric sex, I stumbled upon a twin flame article just a day before having that dream. I remember feeling it was a lovely idea, but it had to be a myth, and didn't think much of it. I distinctly remember how after the dream, I actually wondered if dream-you, or the man in my dream as I called you then, was a symbol for me. I remember how I couldn't get you out of my mind the following day at school. I remember feeling shame, and guilt for desiring a man I feared to be the Devil. I remember how in trying to resolve the shame, and guilt I felt for desiring you, I felt forced to admit that I want a man just like you, but preferably, without the fear. I distinctly remember the thought 'preferably', as if I knew fear was a package deal. I felt you were everything, I didn't even know I wanted. Who, ever imagined, that dream was going to come to life 12 years later? I remember looking into BDSM some time before that dream happened, but I stumbled upon some erotica that wasn't my jam, and I thought that my idea of BDSM must have been wrong. It was this why I moved onto an interest in others, like tantric sex...until I had this dream, which left me with the feeling, and belief that BDSM would in fact be my jam, which eventually led to me being in that club that night.

This was bound to have a strong impact on me. Besides, since I experienced these dreams as nightmares, unbeknownst to me, I was already having to heal from trauma around you when we met in 2015. Heaviness aside, I find this to be a pretty mind-blowing, magical experience. I dreamt of you 12&17 years before we met, and then I got to meet you.

While both dreams were traumatic in themselves, the dream I had at 17 was traumatic enough to desperately have me wanting to forget it, unlike all other nightmares I had before, or after it. That was because of the rape accusation at the end of it. It was all fun, and games until then. As I was dreaming, I was aware I was experiencing my future, although I completely dismissed that possibility, both in my dream, and in my awake state. I remember how it was the rape accusation that had me wake up from that dream. I also remember how as soon as I woke up, I found myself fearing that experience was going to be a part of my future.

The rape accusation at the end of my dream was the main reason I didn't want to leave the room that night. I am also pretty sure that my very weird behavior, and my being so intent on watching them is the reason you are sure I am not lying when I say those dreams happened. I remember how weird you found me, for just sitting on that sofa watching their every move, which prompted you to ask me if I had a fetish for voyeurism. How funny that the most reasonable explanation for my behavior that night is that those dreams did happen. The most wild of things is the most reasonable explanation for it all.

Regarding the rape accusation, I feel, and believe I felt overly responsible for it all. I felt so much guilt that it still ended up like that, even if I stood there the entire night, even if I kept asking her if she was ok, to the point she became annoyed with me. The only reason I was watching was because that was the part of my dream I initially remembered that night. That was the main, if not the only reason I didn't want to leave the room. Even if I feared you to be the Devil, I was much too intrigued by it all to allow that fear to guide my actions in regards to you.

Regarding the rape accusation, I sometimes wonder, if I was the only one who felt any sense of responsibility. She also placed the entirety of the responsibility of that night on me. I stood there watching the entire night. I kept checking in with her, asking if she was ok, to which she would always reply yes, and I was still the only one responsible for it all, despite the fact that she had decided she wanted to have an alter-ego that night, and despite the fact that she hadn't been taking her bp medication for a while at that point. It really seems like no one wanted to take any responsibility for their involvement in it all, but me. Also, no offense, but your refusal to talk to me when everything about those two nights was quite insane... I also want to make it clear, that I only became aware she was manic in hindsight, but I still cannot exactly tell what the truth of that night was, as her being manic only has relevance to a degree. I don't know if this is because my memory around the issue is still fragmented, or if I just don't want to see it for what it is, or maybe I can't see it for what it is because I am afraid to be the one to make such an assessment. One thing I can though tell, is that I believe that my fear around the matter contributed to the entirety of it. Isn't it funny, I was worried about drugs being used, for her to end up making those accusations? I suspected the haziness, blurriness, and lack of control I was experiencing around you was due to the nature of my experience, since I was literally reliving a dream I had had at 17. While I suspected this to be the case, I had to rule out an obvious possibility, so I felt the need to ask. Also, if I failed to share your names with her, it was only because I wanted to spare you, Abbas, of potentially unjustified drama as I became aware of her manic state; a state I wasn't aware of being the case as that night was unfolding. While this was the case, if I was to talk to the police, I would have surely spilled everything I remembered, which at the time I wasn't even realizing wasn't much.

I also want to mention, that I only remembered asking you if drugs were involved last September/October. I didn't remember this bit of information when she made those accusations either. I failed to remember that part of our interactions all these years, despite the fact that I asked myself if she was right several times throughout the years. I really didn't want to believe that of you, but on occasion I did find myself wondering if I am a bloody idiot for it.

All I can imagine sometimes is how you knew we have the same soul from the very beginning, and all you did is try to run from me, from accepting any responsibility for this experience, and connection. I imagine you knew from the beginning, but let me spend a decade in limbo. If that is the case, I feel it was a horrible thing to do, because that limbo really messed with me. While you are free to choose as you wish, I fear you misinterpreted that freedom to mean you can hurt me, and do to me whatever you wanted, regardless of how cruel, how unfair, or disrespectful it would be towards me.

One of the reasons I am wondering if you knew and agreed we have the same soul early on, is because in the months, or maybe year following our encounters, I had two, or maybe three dreams which were saying you are in essence gaslighting me. At the time, I couldn't imagine you doing such a thing, but after all this time, and given your ambiguity, I can't really trust that wasn't the case. I feel I would be a fool to not consider such a possibility. If that is true, I could have been spared of the limbo, and distress of trying to find answers.

Regarding the whole God thing… I do not believe myself to be God's chosen, or special like that. I was simply the right person, in the right circumstances, mental, and emotional spaces conducive to that kind of experience. This being said, while I will always give credit, and appreciate God's offer of Love, I also had a merit in reaching that space. My point is that I am neither as horrible, nor as dumb, and stupid, as you left me feeling. I am not the most intelligent, or well-read person by far, and I surely have my moments of stupidity, but I still needed some intellectual curiosity, and understanding into various concepts to be able to direct my awareness to make the observations I made throughout my life, and experience. You should also know that the word 'bright' does not offend me. I don't have an issue with it being used to describe me. Because you failed to address anything that happened between us, I never knew if you were being sincere whenever you referred to me as bright, or merely being polite, or worse sarcastic. This was the case for all other complimentary words you used towards me, as last we interacted I was neither bright, nor lovely and sweet.

Sometimes it seems like you are still checking my Facebook, although I worry I am delusional. Sometimes I've also been thinking that maybe you do have feelings for me, but then I fear being delusional, because all I saw is how you never really bothered with me, how I was not worth your time, your effort, your love, your forgiveness. All in all, I feel that in your eyes I was unworthy, and undeserving of love. Because God found, and showed me I am worthy of Love, I dared think the man who has the same soul as I do may find me worthy, and deserving of his love. How wrong I was, isn't it? I was truly audacious to believe you will see more in me, to believe you will see me worthy enough of your love, to see me worthy enough of being the woman you choose. Instead, I got to see you would much rather do things I would have enjoyed sharing with you, with another woman. Instead, I got to understand there will be another you will find prettier than me, more intelligent than me, more desirable than me, one whose complications you won't be bothered by. Instead, I got to understand that the man who has my very own soul will show me I am not worth being heard, or understood. Isn't it ironic? This was truly abundant in ironies. I see most, if not all ironies, and that is usually the case for everything around me, or within me. If I failed to mention something, it isn't because I also failed to see. I am much more conscious, and aware of things around, and within me, than you gave me credit for.

Sometimes, I believe I was just another woman after all, but in that scenario, I also believe you were just another man.

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I wouldn't dare write yet another email, but considering I have things left to say, and considering that my Facebook seems to have these ideas that I either am, or am wanting to be a Muslim woman, given the type of ads, and posts I've been getting in my feed, I dare write this one as well. Such posts and ads are pretty unusual, because spirituality is not the type of content I consume. I only get the occasional ad for something related to Christian Orthodoxy. Such ads aren't surprising to me, since not only do I have plenty of connections on Facebook that post stuff like that, but I live in a country whose majority population identifies as Christian Orthodox. Facebook also seems to think that I am from somewhere in South Asia and maybe Middle East given the amount of Indian, Bangladeshi, or Nepalese content in my feed, as well as posts, and ads in what seems to be Arabic language. Yesterday it seemed to think I must be Nigerian, as there were so many posts in my feed from Nigerian people posting content I see no reason Fb would be showing me, and posts in a language I am completely unfamiliar with. All of this is aside from other weirdness, and excessiveness of content, I find myself associating with you for one reason, or another. Because of this, I can't stop myself from thinking that you are somehow checking my Facebook, which has me daring write another email. I do not really understand what space this is happening from, as it doesn't really tell me much. I see various possibilities for why that could be happening. Nowadays, I am constantly finding myself fearing to trust you have feelings for me. Believe it, or not, at times I also find myself questioning whether you are receiving or reading my emails, because I can't know, what I don't know.

I looked into the whole expectations thing, and asked myself whether, or not I expected you to love me. I realize I did expect the other half of my own soul would love me, as it was only natural such an expectation would come with awareness of this kind of connection. While this is true, I never knew what I should, or could expect from you. The trouble is that because you never wanted to resolve our connection, and because I thought highly of you, at the time I imagined it was possible you were waiting for something palpable, given that you were constantly vague, and constantly failed to address anything I was saying. I believed it was possible you were also scared, and you didn't know what to make of it all, as I understood just how insane my story sounded.

I feel my Goodbye email was a thorny issue for some reason. Maybe it was a thorny issue for me, because I knew it would leave little room for doubt as to the space I was in that second night. I shared those dreams with you only then, because it took me a long time to be able to put them in writing in a coherent manner. Even if my memory of them was rather vivid, they were just dreams afterall, dreams I had had 12&17 years before. I was hoping that email will release me, as I figured that if you hadn't been inclined to move towards me until then, it meant your feelings for me weren't genuine, or strong enough, and that wasn't the kind of energy I was wanting. One of the reasons I even got to meet you was because I wasn't willing to settle for anything less than actual genuine love.

After my Goodbye email I tried to move on once again, but I still found myself unable to form connections. It was only after that moment, that I came to realize I was unable to move on, because to me you left my life with no actual explanation. It went from 100 to 0 in the blink of an eye, regardless of how many times I said it had nothing to do with prejudice.

I realise it was weird of me to say I wasn't testing you. That evening, as I was getting dressed, and struggled with clothing choices, I considered making no effort, mostly because I was deeply terrified of it all, as I found myself thinking that if you were indeed the other half of my soul you would love me, no matter how I looked, and would be able to see past that. Besides, given that I had been through a rather dark phase I hadn't been interested in how I was presenting myself to the world, and I thought anything else would be a lie. Looking back, I think my thought process was rooted in various fears, and I engaged in rationalizations as I already saw, and knew my options were limited in terms of clothing choices. The moment I became aware of the dangers of placing myself in such an emotional space, I really tried, but I was out of nicer options. If my memory serves me well I had sent most of my clothes back to Romania at that point, and because I had gained a lot of weight which limited my options even more. All in all, that really was the best choice I sincerely believed, and felt I could make at that moment in time. I hoped it would be clear something wasn't quite right considering you knew I studied fashion. My saying I made no effort, because I was scared in one of my earlier emails was a Freudian slip. I experienced a lot of mental and emotional overwhelm from the very beginning, and in trying to explain myself to you, I subconsciously went for what seemed like a short version, as a result of an unresolved guilt over having taken the idea of testing you into consideration.

Since I found myself fearing you questioning my sincerity, I feel to say that after my spiritual experience I said no lies whatsoever, not even white lies for a very, very long time, or at least not lies I was aware, or conscious of being lies, nor did I have any desire to be dishonest. I did end up saying a few white lies, because I needed to spare myself of people being intrusive, but even those always came with a guilty conscience. Generally speaking, I don't lie. Lies fall on the unloving spectrum because in doing so there is failure to take responsibility for something, or failure to deliver one's truth in a loving manner. This being said, some lies are more understandable than others, and everything should be judged on a case by case basis.

Before that second night happened, I also asked myself if I would have brought up that subject if you had been a man with a different religious identity, and in that circumstance the answer was yes. You could have been an East Asian Mormon man, and it wouldn't have mattered in the slightest. I felt it would have been unfair towards us, both, to avoid touching over a subject I really felt the need, and desire to touch upon just because you were a Muslim man. I did consider how the subject matter would make you feel, but knowing I had more, or less been an agnostic, and disliked religion my entire life, I believed it was likely you were no different. I also thought it was possible your relationship with God was the same as mine was. I realise I failed to understand the complexity of your experience as a British Muslim man. I failed to understand your faith, and you implicitly are under constant scrutiny. And even without understanding all that, I trust I wouldn't have gone on about it like that, seeing how much it upset you. I feel I am receptive enough to people's feelings to stop myself when I see I am the cause of their distress. I did not, however, expect to find myself reliving yet another nightmare. I said my aim was to show you how I reached the belief we have the same soul, but while I tried to push through my fear to get to that place, I also hoped the subject matter will protect me, just in case. I understood my fear must be irrational even then, but my fear was also very overwhelming, and intense.

Shortly after my spiritual experience, I became convinced there was no such thing as the Devil, but having experienced that second night in a nightmare I had when I was merely 12, and then reliving that exact circumstance with you, the fear I experienced during that nightmare took over me. My memory registered you as 'The Devil was sitting on a red velvet chaise longue, across from me'. I literally uttered that to someone in nov 2013 as I recounted the dream of what was to be the second night we met. I also very distinctly remember I felt guilty for saying that, as if I was unfair, to then think I was being silly to worry about a label I placed on a man from a dream. As I was dreaming - in my asleep state - of the second night we met, I remember thinking the man I was looking at was interesting. I remember thinking I was going to have an interesting future, when all of a sudden it dawned on me, that I was once again in a dimly lit environment. Because I was lucid dreaming, I started feeling terrified that the man I was looking at was just the Devil being all nice to me, so he could get me. Around that time in my life I had frequent nightmares with an entity my mind labeled the Devil, an entity that would taunt me, and oftentimes tell me he was going to get me. Once again, I completely dismissed the possibility that I could be experiencing the future even in my dreams, and even more so, in my awake state.

I still feel shame over your social media, because I never wanted to go about things in that manner. Since this was something that came up from you in various versions of events - I wasn't keeping tabs on you. The only reason I ended up engaging with your social media was because I was tired of your constant polite refusals to talk to me, because I was afraid you weren't even a real human, and because many of the memories from 'the dream I had after we met' that kept popping up, which were telling a different story than the experience I was having.

I didn't rely on those memories from my dream when I whatsapped you, because I didn't feel I could. I only whatsapped you, because I still felt unable to move on, despite my efforts. It was only quite a while after my Goodbye email that I realised, became aware, and was able to articulate for myself that I was finding it very difficult to move on, because our connection remained unresolved.

Also, if I shared as much as I did these past two years, it was only because this was a snowball getting bigger on its way downhill from the moment I believed it was possible I was being messed with last summer. When I went for that version of events from my dream, I went for it for a number of reasons. I found our email exchange very weird. I found you saying 'I want the best for you' to possibly point to that scenario. I found you constantly saying 'I have no answers', while you clearly knew what I had been saying all those years was in fact quite reasonable, to point to the same possibility. I found you saying 'I spend ALL my time walking in nature' mostly, because ALL could have only been an exaggeration, and because it was completely irrelevant, to point to that same possibility. I also believed your constant refusal to talk to me to be unlike you, given that before I engaged with that possibility you knew exactly the amount of distress I was experiencing, and how all of this affected, and it was still affecting me. I know myself to be someone who has plenty of empathy, and I know myself to be someone who doesn't run from responsibility. By extension, I believed you to be the same.

While in the aftermath of us meeting, I was largely unaware of these versions of events from my dream, I did feel your refusal to resolve things could end up in a place such as this. I felt unable to stop things from getting here, although I did try to do just that by constantly asking you to talk to me. The best I felt I could do in my circumstance was to be open and honest with you to the best of my ability, as per my awareness. To me, you were worth it enough that I would have gone to hell for you alone, but I didn't feel that would be fair towards either of us in that circumstance. If I did go to hell that was because of the necessity of having to heal myself from a traumatic experience. I told you right off the bat that I fear, that without your input the road to knowing will be long, and painful. I feel it is you the one who put this in motion when you failed to resolve a connection you presumably understood in 2017. Please do not tell me how your life took on a course of its own when it was you, the one who took that course.

I will never say I made no mistakes, or errors in judgement, because I like to allow room for those possibilities, since I understand I am just a flawed human being. I was also having a rather heavy experience, and was constantly having to take what feels like a wild amount of things into consideration. All I can say is that I constantly tried to make the right choice, the loving choice. I am imperfect, and I make mistakes, but I always had the tendency, and desire to correct myself, as I've always been rather reactive to my conscience, something my spiritual experience only exacerbated.

Not only did I constantly try to make the loving choice, but I was mindful of the mirror symbolism, and the possibility that I could be the Devil. I was scared that maybe I am the Devil in our story, but I've come to realise that not only did I constantly try to act in good conscience, but I was also aware of the irrationality of my fear, as I also never saw anything ugly, or worthy of the Devil label when looking at you.

I was always aware I was in a vulnerable position, but I always trusted you to not take advantage of my vulnerabilities.

I also need you to understand that this experience was a lot for me to go through, and I am finding it really complicated to put into writing. I was also asking you to not read into my words through this, because I was severely mentally and emotionally impaired, and I had a lot of difficulty expressing myself from that space. I have much more mental clarity, and I am feeling somewhat better, but I still find myself unable to say I am well. Besides, while I do know my English is pretty good, it still isn't my native language.

I am still going over possible scenarios. I feel really split on what to believe, because on one hand, I feel I cannot trust any scenario in which you have feelings for me, and on the other hand I believe all other scenarios simply look very much unlike you, as I struggle believing you to be as callous, and as awful of a person as you seem in many of the scenarios running through my mind, as I am trying to understand this. I am sure the answer to this is very much human, but in all honesty I struggle seeing much, if any good right now. I struggle with that, because of all the distress I went through, because of all the distress I went through these past two years. It feels so incredibly excessive, and so incredibly unnecessary.

I could not have let go of this, because my peace, and my freedom were dependent on me solving, and resolving what was a traumatic experience. I've never been scared of you as a Muslim man. I am now, though scared of the man in Muslim. Isn't it ironic that you feared, I feared Muslim to only leave me fearing you are just another man, no different than other men I met before you?

Judging by my fears, and the simple fact that I am left feeling much too complicated of a woman for you is telling enough in regards to where my fears lied, or what I unknowingly, and unconsciously associated with the Devil. It never had anything to do with any Muslim stereotypes. Physical violence never even occurred to me, and it was never a fear I had at any point. It seems I am more basic, as I find regular non-violent man enough to be feared.

Since this was something that seems to have been a misunderstanding between us, I feel the need to mention that as far as I know there is scientific consensus on the interaction between nature, and nurture. There is a constant interaction between consciousness, and the environment, as consciousness will naturally react to the environment it finds itself in. Culture is also a part of the environment, and I never believed otherwise, as I never believed that the environment erases, and supersedes consciousness. I may have not known to articulate it quite in this manner back then, but I never believed differently.

I sometimes wish this is nothing, but my pain clouding my ability to see things clearly. I wish this is just reality having come full circle, and I too, am being unfair to you. If you feel I am being unfair in any way, please know that I won't look away. Given everything, I just don't see how that would be possible. I do understand you had a different experience, but I also feel this went on for far too long, and I am only human. I break too, you know? Just like you do.

If you will find yourself thinking that going for a spiritual experience will fix what is broken, you should know that I do not believe it is up to God to fix, what I feel you so carelessly broke; not now, and not ever. This does not imply, I am even making the assumption you may want to fix anything. I am only saying this, as I am fully aware/conscious that the nature of our connection and the nature of existence are very much infinite, and eternal, as I am aware/conscious that the nature of experience is finite. The nature of experience is finite, because it is defined by feelings, and emotions; therefore, the shift, and change of experience, are dependent on experiencing, and releasing those feelings, and emotions. As soon as one experience ends, another begins, and a process must be engaged for experience to progress to a space of love, or any other space, we aware, or unaware, consciously, or unconsciously choose.

While, when we met, the amount of information/understanding I felt privy to seemed truly overwhelming, and it felt like I understood how the Universe works that probably wasn't accurate of me to say. I do feel I have a rather good understanding of human condition, human nature, the dynamic between souls, the interactions and dynamic between consciousness and the environment, the interactions and dynamic between souls and the Universe, soul and relationship with God, nature of Love and Fear, how thoughts, feelings&emotions and behaviors feature into the progression of human experience and consciousness.

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This morning, I woke up with so much rage in me. I have a lot of rage in me after two years of this, and it's taking plenty of self-control to not act on it. Seeing you live your life unbothered, while I am going through all of this was more than I could take.

I am not sure you understand the amount of distress all of this caused me. I worry you will call me deranged, but make no mistake that we are the same exact person on the inside. I am assuming you never found yourself engaging in these types of behaviours. Much to your surprise neither did I. Never, ever, in the entirety of my life. This should only tell you how much distress I am under, and not that I am deranged. And when I say these types of behaviours you can include everything to do with social media, as well as much of the manner in which I conducted myself these past two years.

I am embarassed to attach the image below, but I feel it's important I do, so you won't think this is more insane than it sounds, and that you understand what I am talking about. In trying to find relief from the heavy feelings I've been experiencing, I started hitting myself in the chest with all the strength I have. It's been going on for a few weeks now? I am not doing it with the goal of hurting myself, as I am also not experiencing any pain when I am doing it, but merely because it seems to offer me relief. I seem to have a preference for hitting myself on the left side. It simply seems to offer me more relief than my right side. It starts to bruise, and hurt, and then I resort to hitting myself in the left side of my chest. I don't hit myself when I am bruised, because once again, I am doing it to release the tension, and not because I am consciously trying to hurt myself, even if this is what it ends up amounting to. This is now. That's my left side, and there is this huge really dark bruise. It's the biggest, and darkest I had so far. The other day, I had a huge lump in the middle of my chest, because of the physical trauma. Since it doesn't hurt when I am doing it the bruises are always surprising, and unexpected to me. I just end up having so much anxiety, and feeling so much heaviness that this is the only way I am finding some relief from it. Please don't believe there is any other reason behind attaching that image, aside from the fact that it serves as proof for the amount of distress I've been experiencing. I found myself feeling a lot of anger seeing that bruise, as I was getting undressed when I came home from work, which is what drove me to both take that picture, and send this email. The yellow part going upwards isn't shadow, but bruising.

Last year, I was suicidal, and it took so much self control to not act on it… Last I seriously considered suicide was several months ago, as opposed to most of last year when I was simply having this urge to stab myself, or to slit my wrists. For some reason it had to be violent. I have never had such intense feelings of suicide ever before. I had observed myself having a subconscious lack of will to live in the months prior to my spiritual experience, to then find the same subconscious lack of will to live, some years after we met, which ended up transforming into full blown suicidal ideation later on. Neither of these instances in my life came anywhere close to what I experienced two years ago. I don't consider myself to be suicidal anymore. The thought does pop up from time to time, but rarely, and surely not with the same intensity as before.

Also last year, I started displaying full on OCD behaviour, something I haven't before experienced in my life. Hand washing. Granted, I was a little extra with handwashing before as well, but I didn't display full on OCD. When I say full on OCD, it means that I was washing my hands after touching literally any surface. It got to the point where everything I was doing was revolving around hand washing. I don't know if it's as bad, because nowadays I am also a slob.

Last year, I kept my house under control, but this year... I haven't cleaned my house in 3 weeks now, and this is not the worst it was. I am simply too tired, and I lack energy to do anything.

In the last few years, I saw maybe 3? new movies, and all except one I think, were the easy/light type movies. I used to love doing many things that I just don't do anymore. I watch, and rewatch the same series over, and over again. I have no life whatsoever.

I am irritable, and plenty of times I have little patience with people who even accidentally step on my toes, something that is unlike me.

As for therapy, well...I already went through two counsellors, and I no longer have the energy to start with my story all over again. Just recounting my spiritual experience, and meeting you takes about 3-4-5 sessions. One of the counsellors wasn't helpful at all, and the sessions were making me worse. The other was a great counsellor, but I felt he was trying to take advantage of me, and some of our interactions outside of the sessions made me feel iffy. So that's that. Besides, counselling is expensive, and it's a lengthy process, not to mention that it seems to be a hit, and miss when it comes to having my experience understood. Regarding psychiatric care, well, it turns out that I was incorrect regarding the psychiatric unit around here, as the experiences of my colleague left me sour, and distrusting. I also, simply find myself unable to trust most with a psychiatry degree around my experience, as I fear there is a high likelihood for it to be misdiagnosed.

While the dream I had in the aftermath of us meeting did play a role in my experience, I am also sure another part was played by my hopes and dreams of love. Knowing the nature of our connection, in absence of your input, I found myself unable to rule out the idea that you felt for me, the same way I felt for you. Why would that be such a wild idea to entertain, especially since when we met, you told me you fell in love with me? I thought you were feeling hurt and scared, and you didn't know what to make of what I was saying. I also thought you will be as excited as I was. I constantly thought I didn't express myself well enough. I constantly thought that maybe you didn't understand what I was trying to say. I took plenty of possibilities into consideration. I also, just as constantly tried to accept the possibility that you may never want to talk to me.

I knew that 2022 email will leave little room for doubt, but at that point, my goal was to find relief. I considered that the email I had sent in 2021, in which I expressly said I bloody masturbated to you BEFORE I met you, when I was bloody 17, should have left little room for doubt that nothing that happened between us had anything to do with you being Muslim, and little room for doubt regarding the nature of our connection. I tried to move on plenty of times after that Goodbye email. It just wasn't working for me though, so I resorted to WhatsApp two years ago. I would have been fine with whatever your truth was, but I needed to understand, so I could heal in order to be able to move on to the next phase of my journey, whichever way that would have looked like, be it with, or without you. There was a 'with you' both because the memories from that dream were contradicting the experience I was having, and because I was still in love with you.

While the dream I had in the aftermath of us meeting did play a role, there is causality between the contents of those precog dreams of mine, and the feelings I am experiencing in the awake state right before having them. All the war dreams happened during times when there were war related news in the world. To give you a very clear example, the precog dream where they went Nazi style Germany on Muslim people happened as Russia was invading Crimea, just a short time after I engaged in Islamophobic rhetoric. Another clear example is the dream I had at 17yo when just the day prior, due to reading an article on twin flames, I was triggered to have feelings on the matter. This is the case for all other precog dreams I remember daily events, from around the time I had them. These dreams, and the ability for precognition are also a result of the ability to project potential progressions of the feelings, and emotions we choose to engage. This should illustrate to you the kinds of feelings I was having when I had that dream with many versions of events. I have no control over whether, or not I have such dreams. I keep feeling guilty for knowing we could end up in a place such as this, but not only did I do my best to stop things from getting here, we could have ended up in many other places before this one. I don't feel anything I did ever took away your control. Given the qualities of our soul, it was obvious to me that the theme of control was going to be an important part of this journey. I feel that by failing to address, and acknowledge our shared experience you took away my ability to have control over my own experience, which leaves me feeling robbed.I realised that in part, the amount of emails I sent to you these past two years were subconscious attempts at taking back control over my own experience. I would have most likely chosen to feel whichever way I would have felt for you, no matter your truth. Today, I am pretty sure I feel actual genuine, and unconditional love for you, but I also feel you took the choice of loving you no matter your truth, away from me. While I realise I feel this kind of love for you, the expression of my love can be affected by the kind, and amount of hurt that is inflicted onto me.

I am also much more aware, and conscious of self - generally speaking, at least - than you gave me credit for, but am I supposed to apologise for knowing how to control/direct/guide my experience? I don't feel I take anyone's control from themselves, and I always made it a point to be as open and honest as I possibly could, from the level of awareness I had at any given moment. This being said, maybe sometimes I failed at being truthfull, because trying to communicate this kind of complex experience via email was rather complicated, not to mention my precarious mental state. One of the reasons I try to aim for openness, and honesty is because I do not want to take anything from anyone. I feel it would have been fair of you to give me the courtesy of at least trying to do the same by me.

I can't say I made no mistakes, because I don't like doing that, but you should be mindful of what connecting to God's conscience can do to you. My point is that at the very least, I constantly tried to act in good conscience.

How much of a beating am I supposed to take before I break, and start acting out of character?

And don't get me started with right vs wrong, because you wouldn't have been so offended that second night, if you hadn't believed in there being a right and wrong. It just so happens that while society facilitates a subjective perception of right/wrong, there is an objective right, and wrong. It's just that it's circumstantial, and only defined by love, or the lack of it.

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I kept trying for that email that will set me free. I kept writing because somehow, I kept hoping it will be this email that will dot the i's and cross the t's, that it will be this email that will offer me the much sought after relief from what was a heavy, and maddening experience to go through.

I keep wanting to say that I am sure there were much better ways in which I could have handled this, in which I could have handled the entirety of my experience, and I am sure there were, but I did my best, as I was having to navigate a traumatic experience with so many dimensions, all with their own complexities. The precognition dimension, the God dimension, the Devil dimension, the I met the other half of my soul dimension, the lack of memory, the confusion, the fear, the hope, the excitement. It was a lot to deal with, a lot to process, and navigate.

I am sure you found me excessive, but all the emails I ended up sending helped me get closer to truth. I know. I could just write them instead of also sending them, but not only did your lack of reaction help me rule out various possibilities, but there are plenty that I write that don't get sent. I feel like an intruder, but all the emails I sent, those outbursts, all that I shared, even as wonky, and pathetic as they were, they all saved my life. While I unloaded plenty in these emails, I also dealt with plenty on my own, and there were plenty more emails I didn't send, and plenty of times when I bit my tongue. Sending some of them gave me some hope that maybe I am heard. And even so, because I have no evidence I was heard, I am still largely left feeling unheard.

I never understood how you really felt for me, or what it is that I can expect from you, and our connection. It was never the possibility of rejection that had me on the brink of suicide, but the uncertainty of not knowing what to expect from you. I needed to know and understand, because I couldn't live the way I had been living until then. I wasn't trying, or wanting to lose you, but I needed answers, because all of this felt paralysing for me. I needed to understand, so I would know which direction to go. Not knowing what I was supposed to accept resulted in me spending a decade in limbo, a limbo that I feel took a lot from me. I am a shell of the person I once was, a space I've been finding myself in, for years now.

I am sure that to you my actions, my emails and their content left a lot to be desired, but more than to say that I was struggling and unwell, I couldn't. I can't say more than this was a lot for me to go through. The whole social media interaction didn't help my case that much either; not while being as mentally unwell as I was. I couldn't know what was the purpose behind it, but as I found myself hoping for various scenarios, I took it as a sign of affection coming from you. I kept hoping for this, or for that. I kept hoping, because after all these years, and despite everything, I still found myself very much in love with you, and I clung onto what seem to be the most ridiculous of things, in absence of your input. I took all the social media interaction, as a sign you weren't even in a relationship anymore, to then see your bsky, and realise you were in a relationship all along, to see, and realise you were living your life unbothered, while I was struggling to that degree.

I feel like an idiot to have trusted you, to have trusted your words of affection, to have trusted you fell in love, to have trusted you to treat me with a modicum amount of respect. I didn't trust you, because I expected the man with whom I share a soul to treat me with love and respect, because all other halves of a soul would be respectful and loving to their other half. I trusted you, because I knew, and understood the qualities of my soul. I never expected this kind of treatment from you. I trusted you, because I knew everything I stand for, but this feels like more of the same kind of disrespect, and more of the same kind of shallow I've been accustomed to expect from men.

I didn't expect you to love me, but I trusted that if you don't, you will treat me with respect, and kindness. It was because I trusted you, that I ended up reading into your ambiguity, as why else would you fail to resolve our connection? Was it so outrageous of me to think that maybe the other half of my soul wants, and loves me as much as I want, and love him? And oh, how much I loved, and wanted you.

After we met, I was confused, and scared, but I didn't want to do anything that could cause you even the smallest of hurt, or upset. If I recall correctly, if you go back to my emails before the 2021 one, you will see how I never used the word 'Devil'. I danced around it, because I didn't want to make the experience heavy for you. I think I may have treated the word 'nightmare' in the same way, for the same reason. I was also confused about what was right and wrong in our circumstance, and even if I loved you, I never felt comfortable striving to 'wake' you. The lack of resolve to our connection was taxing on my mental, and emotional wellbeing, and I am pretty sure I would have pushed harder for it, right from the beginning, but between your pain, and my lack of memory, I felt I had no right. I know. I know, and see what's behind the feeling that I had no right to downright ask for it, sooner than I did, but I didn't see at the time. All I felt I could do in my circumstances was to ask you to talk to me. And you know what's funny? It's funny, because I understood, and 'saw' very early on that we could end up in a situation such as this, if you fail to resolve our connection. The similar scenario I was 'seeing' at the time resulted in us reconnecting, although that scenario featured a version of you who loved me. I really wanted you. I really wanted that man who loved me as much as I 'saw' you loving me, and the thought that I could let you walk right into it crossed my mind. I also felt, and believed that would be wrong of me, and that was the first time I asked you to talk to me. Your constant refusals to talk to me had me trying to look for an explanation that was worthy of the man I believed the other half of my soul to be. I thought highly of you, and I never expected you to treat me quite in this manner.

I understand you had a different experience of our connection, but you were equally as responsible for it. Your denial of our shared reality and experience, your denial of my reality, experience, and distress, your denial of reality itself, caused me an unspeakable amount of grief. Reality doesn't change just because you refuse to face, and deal with it.

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Sometimes I still want to ask what happened to you, because this was not normal, but then again I am aware of people, and most are like this, completely dissonant when it comes to their principles and values. My biggest hurt is that the love I associated with you was in a constant state of confusion over the shape it was safe for it to take. It just spilled and splashed chaotically, feeling safe one moment and unsafe the next, without me knowing the appropriate way to contain it. It wasn't about pretending it wasn't there. It wasn't even about withholding it from you, but simply about about being able to place it in context so that I can protect it, and myself. 

To me it felt as if the shape of you was embedded in my being ever since I was a child. The shape didn't have a face, or looked like anything in particular. It was just a presence I could sense, and the vibe felt unmistakable when I met you. I didn't think of that presence as anything in particular, it just was. I used to believe that two people sharing one soul had to be a myth, so I never looked for soulmates. I only ever looked for love. The real kind. I wasn't mentioning other men to make you jealous, but because the moment you showed up all other men stopped existing for me. After my experience, I became open to the idea of two people sharing the same consciousness, so I started wondering whether any of the men in my life fit those shoes. When I mentioned that, I was merely trying to show the contrast, as the question of who might be that person stopped the moment I met you. 

To me every part of you felt like the one for me. Do you remember what we first connected on? Our views on stereotypes. I forgot that. I didn't believe you had to be that presence without reason. I observed and analysed, because the idea of the same soul in two distinct bodies was out there. God followed by Devil, and Love followed by Fear - too on the nose and narratively neat. The back and forth in my dream. It was always the contrast that got me. Devil vs Self. That after my dream even without associating you with the concept of shared soul, I both considered you might be a symbol for Self, and the kind of man I didn't even know I needed. Your use of words like 'unfair' and 'freedom' which gave me a sense of them holding the same existential significance in your vocabulary as they did in mine. People independently describing our temperaments using identical language. You 'very chill', 'living on a cloud', me 'so calm i will live to 100', 'living on a cloud'. And then the reality inversion. Your reality filtered through fear was a complete inversion of my reality - one filtered through love. Love and fear, two sides of the same coin, two poles of the same underlying field of consciousness. It wasn't something I decided to believe, but something that survived every one of my attempts to pull it apart. I didn't decide and wanted it to be true, because who would want to be treated like this? It wasn't a decision. It was about what's true. Now, despite all this evidence, I feel I can't tell any longer. I can't tell because your treatment of me wasn't just unloving, it looks excessively unloving in every possible way. 

To me it feels like you jumped ship at the first sign of discomfort, and no matter how many times I called out injustice you didn't budge. I imagine you interpreted the calm way in which I called injustice as a sign that you weren't unjust, because someone facing injustice would have been louder. If this was true then you failed to account for how you treated me that second night, and the impact your actions could have had on me. I was going in and out of consciousness, and asking if your table was made of real wood. I feel you treated your comfort as more important than my reality. I called out injustice calmly because I loved you, and because I couldn't defend myself with no memories. I would have resorted to feminist frameworks straight away, but it didn't seem like a good idea in that circumstance. The best I could do was trust you wouldn't engage in something like that.

I can't imagine you didn't understand that second night had an existential charge for me. Short of laying out the patterns in the structure of my experience I didn't know how else to communicate what I needed from you to feel safe, or how to explain why I believed we literally shared the same soul. Ironically despite knowing what the Devil symbol stood for, I didn't want to go there because I thought that had a higher likelihood of offending you. The meaning of the symbol overlaps with stereotypes about Muslim men, and the symbol had nothing to do with any Muslim men related stereotypes. Despite what I said - which was fuelled by trauma alone -, I actually had no established schemas of Muslim men, only familiarity with some stereotypes I had come across that I never apply to individuals anyway. Did some of my negative experiences with Muslim men overlap with those stereotypes? They did, but so did some of my negative experiences with men from other cultures. I find that all that differs in the display of such behaviors is the culture by which they are shaped, but the root of the behavior itself is the same. Did that mean that I assigned these behaviors as belonging solely to one group alone? It didn't. It only implied that I may see more prevalence in one group, and that is due to socialisation alone, rather than essence. I only see patterns, but they are very loose in my mind anyway. The Devil archetype actually constellated patriarchal structural behaviors.

I have a difficult time believing you didn't understand how I felt for you throughout the years, and I feel my needs were reduced to romance alone. In 2017, in reply to the email in which I said it all went beyond the romantic implications, your words reduced my experience to romance alone. It wasn't that I wasn't hoping for romance, but that my needs went beyond that. Your partner did the same. 'He wasn't interested'. I was suicidal, and could barely hold myself together, and that was only because I wanted you romantically. Leaving aside your mention of this word, I can't help but imagine how I was labeled as an intense, fixated woman, not woman who was abandoned with no explanation, not woman who was unjustly accused by a man who held existential significance for her, not woman whose core identity was erased in an existentially charged experience, and spent a decade questioning her reality. From intelligent compassionate woman with an anti-prejudice mindset and strong pattern recognition skills, I turned into an autistic inadequate woman who was bigoted and had no understanding of boundaries. You never saw me, but then again I think you never wanted to look either. I feel your comfort trumped my reality. 

I am seriously affected by the fact that I felt to mention the word woman this many times, and that I've felt the need to engage in identity politics. I don't like the concept of identity as it is established, and I prefer other terms that account for individuality while also allowing for fluidity. I can promise you that self vs other was not mine. I never split the world like that, and I always differentiate the environment from the essence of the individual without denying or demonising either. It just is. To me there were people and people regardless of group, and I never strayed from that perspective. I also feel it's much more conducive to focus on the behavior itself rather than group identity. I always identified as human, not woman, not fat, not x. Those were attributed to me, not something I assigned to myself and for this reason I don't use labels for other people either. 

I don't know how no one really understood that my behaviors were a result of distress, and that I was simply trying to survive with my psychological integrity intact. I imagine you rendered your silence as boundaries, but boundaries, at least the healthy kind are supposed to preserve the dignity and psychological integrity of everyone involved, not the comfort of one party alone. I find this to be especially true given that it can't be said you had acquitted yourself of your responsibilities where our shared experience was concerned.

I sincerely felt I would have gone to hell for you alone, but I didn't choose hell willingly in this case. If I wanted to survive this with my sense of self intact, I would have had to walk through it whether I did or did not like it. That's all I've been doing this entire decade. Trying to survive. I can't help but imagine that you had to have known that it was quite possible that we literally shared the same consciousness. Not only did I share my beliefs with you, but your ambiguity doesn't make sense for someone who had no awareness of the possibility of it being true. Your ambiguity was either a form of withholding assertions about reality until you had enough evidence this was the actual reality of the nature of our connection, or a form of trying to avoid the existential implications of the nature of our connection. I find both to have been unwise, each in their own way. If your ambiguity was a form of withholding making assertions about reality, communication could have resolved the uncertainty. If your ambiguity was a form of avoiding the existential nature of this experience, I find a lot of irony in it. Not only did every experience I see, in which you embraced it, feel quite breathtaking, but it was the avoidance that turned it from existential charge to existential crisis for me. On the subject of precognition there is nothing mystical behind it. Precognition is only projection of probable progressions of emotional patterns. I don't say this based on the dream I had after we met. I can't qualify that one as precognitive given that no part of it actually happened, but there was another dream with 3 possible outcomes that I can qualify as precognitive. It was the dream that shattered my understanding of reality and led to an existential crisis prior to my spiritual experience, a spiritual experience that was nothing else, but an alignment with the structure of reality. 

And since I do feel bitter that you called me slow when I was far from slow, I did actually map it out conceptually. With no prior knowledge I actually arrived at identical terminology, structure and dynamic as an already established model of consciousness, and did so just based on the symbolism. I always understood I was seeing structure, but I was too focused to survive to be able to conceptualise. I feel I was expected to perfectly articulate an experience such as mine in a heartbeat. I was younger than you, and grew up in a different environment with different opportunities for development. And it's not even that you had all of this in you, but that you directed at me what feels like the worst of you.