Being 17 was one weird year. I was way too air-headed in certain ways. Up until Ramadan things went well, and then it all fell apart and I saw flaws in my family which hurt me. I was way too immature to handle it, and I regret that. It was my own doing, and not anybody elses. Allah put me to the test, and I feel I failed..big time.Despite the flaws, I should have appreciated my parents more and understood that they’re older and wiser in judgement. You can never understand in the moment, but always realize after.

It was one weird birthday. I lost complete trust for a few people I knew and loved with my heart completely, I don’t even want to talk to them or see them again. Oddly the person I didn’t really trust may be the person who is actually good. I’m too scared to fully trust that person though. It hurts to, and what if I land up where I am now.

While that made me sad and stuff, my parents and sis took me out and we had some fun. I bought really nice coconut kulfi (indian ice cream 😉 ) and come cookies. 😆 May Allah (Subhanahu Wa Ta’ala) reward them for being there for me, and may He forgive me for my shortcomings towards them, and may He increase me in imaan. Ameen

I miss the innocence and freely giggling ways of being 5, but its kind of nice being 18. I feel a lot more…more…*thinks* not really mature, but getting there slowly. 😛


About Thê Talkïng Pïnhêad

Just another girl who writes stuff, who thinks the world is screwed up, who believes things can change, who knows it most probably won't.
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