While reading Rumi's Daughter, certain passages struck unexpectedly deep. They didn't just make sense—they revealed something.
Just like Kimya, who wrestled with Shams' shifting moods, I struggled with the emotional volatility of someone I admired deeply. In a friendship that often felt more like an emotional minefield. The unpredictability was draining. But one line from the book gave words to the ache they hadn't been able to name:
"In the midst of total desolation, she realized that instead of being anchored in God, she had become dependent on Shams' ever-changing moods, and so lost her center. Now she understood! Without a center, there was only pain. That made the whole difference!"
This was it. This was what I had done. I liked that this person loved God—and got attached.I mistook attachment for love. And when someone becomes the lens through which you try to find God, you suffer.
Because that's not where He is. And when it all collapses, not only does the relationship fall apart—but faith trembles too. The devastation is not just emotional; it's spiritual. And always ends in complete emotional wreckage.
Attachment, I've realized, is destructive.
Love isn't.
Love doesn't hurt- attachment does.
And that's what happens when we seek divine love in human beings: we demand from them something they can't possibly give. And then we resent them when they inevitably fail.
How can a person carry the weight of being someone's God? They can't. And when we try to make them, we end up not only breaking the relationship—but losing ourselves in the process.
I mistook his love for God as something I could hold onto. I thought that in him, I could find a glimpse of Allah. But that's when everything started to unravel.
Because when you anchor your heart to someone else, you drift the moment they do. And when they can't hold you—because they're human—you fall. Hard.
I had been looking for love through someone else, but love was never meant to be seen through human windows. It was meant to be seen through God's. Instead of looking, I leapt through it.
What I thought was love was only attachment.
And attachment?
That was the fall.