As soon as the door had closed, I patted Hayley's (bukan nama sebenar) thigh.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Silence.

"No, please don't cry." I said.

But I defied my own words and burst into tears. I tried to numb my mind and feelings. I tried not to think. But I couldn't. Tears flowed down my cheeks, and I heard another sob next to me. Hayley.

We both cried. I stared at the ticking clock as tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't count how many minutes we sat there sobbing. When we calmed down a little, I layed down and closed my eyes, still trying to not think about anything. Still trying not to let demons whisper words and assumptions to my ears.

A moment passed, and then I lost it.

Millions of intense thoughts came shooting into my head. I started to cry so hard. I felt anxious. Then my chest felt so constricted. My breathing got so difficult. I felt like ripping my chest out because I couldn't breathe well. I felt like dying. Little coughs. Then I brought myself up in a sitting position so it wouldn't get worse.

Then Hayley came behind my back and patted my chest. Just like how Rasulullah ran his hand down Mus'ab's chest when he was beyond excited listening to Allah's words for the first time. But in my case, I was far from excited. I continued wheezing for God knows how long. And Hayley continued hugging me from behind and patting my chest. She cried too, on my shoulder. I held her hands, trying to somewhat tell her that I was so weak and broken.

"Lailahaillallah, muhammad rasulullah." I tried to recite my syahadah through my wheeze several times, in case I'd die that night. Midnight, it crossed my mind that I could be gone forever.

"Istighfar... Astaghfirullah." Hayley tried to calm me down, still patting my chest from behind. I was still gasping for air. I couldn't feel my feet. I wanted to rip my chest open. I wanted to die. I couldn't control it. I tried so hard to calm down.

After several long breaths forcing myself to calm down, I managed to stop. My hands still in Hayley's. Alhamdulillah for these hands. The aftermath? My head pulak yang throbbing. Oh the pain. It doubled on the inside. Several months ago, when this similar attack happened in Dhuha, it took longer for me to finally breathe properly because I was alone. 3 am, similar case. Not the same, but similar in so many ways.

Hayley folded my fingers and said, "Pergi ambil wudhuk, solat, mintak dekat Allah." So I did. Showered as if to wash the pain off. Then I read the Quran as well. Didn't realize how many surah I finished. Trying to rationalize.

I wasn't sad because she decided to leave us. I was sad because when she left, she closed the door without looking or saying anything. I was sad because I said "Assalamualaikum." but she didn't answer. I was sad because I felt like she didn't even want to be here, around me. I was sad because jalan dnt ni dah hurt her so much. I was sad because she was so torn inside. Dalam tu, mungkin dah lunyai. I didn't mind her leaving to another place. If Allah said she needed to go, then I'd comply. But I was sad because I didn't do anything to help mend that broken heart. I tried, but maybe it wasn't enough, or maybe it was just too late because she already made her decision. I'd be so frustrated if she actually left because of the pain. Cuma kerana rasa, perasaan. I was so scared if she left but she'd still get the same pain elsewhere.

Then I realized, I was also sad because of the anxiety. Feeling down because you did something wrong. Fearing stuff that might happen. The fear and the anxiety are living inside me, and I don't know how to get rid of it — except for being in tarbiah.

Anyways, that's a different story. As for you, I hope things get better for you. I hope you rise back up higher than you ever were. I hope you'll find what you're looking for. And I'm sorry I didn't know how to reciprocate the love you gave me.

If this is farewell, please know that I'll always love you the same, near or far, lillahi ta'ala.

It's now 3 am, again. Good night. Let go.