Hi Min,
I’m writing to you from a train headed from Jaipur to New Delhi. It’s about a five-hour ride. It’s been a long day, and though I’m tired, I can’t seem to sleep. For once, I have the time and space to sit quietly with my thoughts. Normally, I avoid overthinking or digging too deep into my feelings, but tonight is different. The rhythm of the train gives me room to reflect.
The last time I messaged her was in January. Since then, there’s been complete silence. I haven’t even opened that chat app anymore—what’s the point? I did see her online once, but I didn’t say hello. Part of me wondered if it was really her or her husband using the phone. That uncertainty kept me from reaching out. Silence seemed like the wiser choice.
I can say with confidence that I’ve been a faithful man. Many women have approached me over the years—some even crossed lines—but I always stepped back. My heart has always belonged to my wife. I’ve never allowed space for anyone else, even in lonely or difficult times. That’s one thing I’ve held onto tightly, no matter what temptations came my way.
Alhamdulillah, it’s over now. That was the best decision for both of us. We each have spouses and children to care for, careers and reputations to protect. An affair would’ve destroyed everything. I’ve seen the pain such mistakes bring into people’s lives, and I couldn’t bear to let that happen to mine—or hers. Ending it was hard, but necessary.
Still, I miss her. I don’t think she ever truly left my thoughts. During the affair, we were both under stress. We loved each other, but like before, it couldn’t work. The same problems reappeared. We fought, talked, laughed, cried. The misunderstandings felt endless. And yet, there was something undeniably real in it all—memories, warmth, a strange sense of fate.
But jealousy tore me apart. That was the crack that widened with time. I couldn’t shake it, and deep down I knew it would consume everything. Even before her husband found out, I was already breaking inside. Despite all that, there were still moments of joy. Even now, a message or missed call from her still stirs something in me. I’ve saved a few texts in my blog—just for memory’s sake.
These days, I feel calmer. I can focus more on work and family. Alhamdulillah, work has been better this year than the last. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t like to hear from her, but I know better now. I still carry guilt for what I put her through. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is let someone go—even if the love remains. That’s a truth I’ve come to accept.
As Muslims, we know the line between right and wrong is thin. What is halal is clear, and what is haram is clear. I don’t want to risk crossing it again. I still remember what she told me: that she loves her husband more than she ever loved me. “He loves me wholeheartedly,” she said. That truth echoes in my mind. It reminds me to stay away, no matter how strong the pull.
I genuinely hope she’s happy. She chose him—and maybe Allah gave her what she needed, not just what she once wanted. There is always wisdom in His plan. I tried once to talk to my wife about all this, but she wasn’t ready. Maybe she still isn’t. I don’t know what’s going on in her heart, but I’m here. Trying. Waiting. Healing. The tongue may be silent, but the heart speaks in prayers.
Take care of yourself, Min.
Feb 1, 2025