Barkhan Seer, I Love You!

Thunder: Intimately Intricate & The Writing Cooperative Contest

Andalib Samandari
Nov 1 · 6 min read
Sacred tree in the story. Hanan Iscachar / Alamy Stock Photo

Last night, Isabel and I went to the holy Baha’i shrine together. We climbed the broad tree across from the shrine and sat for an hour. We talked about nothing, didn’t talk, cuddled like we’d known each other for years, not days.

I start to kiss her neck, and she closes her eyes, leaning back into me. Then she sits up, she says she’s scared and she’s going to fall. So I stop, and we shift the cuddle over. I hold her tight, I tell her nothing will happen to her. But she wants to get down, so we do, still holding each other close.

Isabel looks at me for a second, then pulls me towards the shrine. “Come on, let’s go,” she says. “Wait, not yet…” I look at her, holding her by the hand. She turns away and pulls me from the tree, “Let’s go.”

We say the midnight prayer, silently. Meditating beside her, I catch a glimpse as she turns upward. Warm, golden, sweet, airy. She is so beautiful, above and below!

I felt so much of her up there, that’s not down here. This acne medication isn’t doing her any good, I can tell she’s usually more grounded than this. Hopefully, the meds will be worth it for her.

Without warning, I feel sad, and I know — I won’t kiss her tonight.

I get off the bus going home, saying goodbye. I’m exhausted. I can’t get myself to move, so I scroll Reddit for an hour until she texts me, she’s about to go to sleep. I tell her I’m still up on my phone, and she persuades me to say goodnight and get off. After she leaves, I’m tempted to get back online, but I drag myself to the bathroom, shower, shave and brush my teeth. I dive into bed an hour later.

I wake up hours before my alarm, it’s too fucking early. The sun won’t let me sleep, but if I get out of bed I’ll be too awake to fall asleep again. I settle for scrolling my phone under the covers. To no surprise, I’m still awake thirty minutes later, so I go to the restroom, tell my cousin not to wait for me since I’ll sleep until lunch, as I planned.

Now, it’s almost time that I can’t procrastinate getting up much longer, but I haven’t slept. I put on a guided sleep meditation, falling into a deep and warm space. Womb-like, cozy. The sleep I’d been missing.

The end of the track approaches, and the soft female voice tells me to sit up, come back to awareness, position myself for the day.

No fucking way. I’m still exhausted. The covers are just right, finally, and the space I’m in is so refreshing.

The track ends, and I slowly roll onto my side, eyes still closed. I grope to come back, blinking gently, but the first glimpse of the world blinds me. It burns. It fucking burns! My eyes can’t handle it. I can’t handle it.

A flurry of painful, familiar emotions bubbles up, rising in intensity — I just can’t fucking do it, I’m always so exhausted, I’m so alone, here. Why do I put myself through life, day after day? No reason. None at all. Nothing matters. It’s all pain and grinding and suffering and then you die, and maybe do it all again.

Mom. I need you, mom. Please save me. Please keep me warm, safe, sheltered from this world of suffering.

Isabel, please. Come back. Please love me! I need you. I can’t fucking do it here. Not alone.

I felt so good, sleeping; where did all this come from? I wish I could just rest in there until the end of time, the end of my life. Melt away. It’s not worth killing myself, too much work. I’ll just not eat, not leave my bed, lose myself in my phone until I dissolve, disintegrate into space, go back and leave this shithole.

It’s all pain here, anyway. I know how great it is, up there.

Why can’t I go?

Why haven’t I gone already? Please, take me! Someone, save me!

Barkhan Seer.

I want to leave, but I can’t. Maybe I could. But somewhere, I won’t let myself.

Gold. Above.

I’ve been here, many times. In this life. This year. I won’t let myself go. But why!? I want to be up there, with him!

Warmth, heartfelt love.

No, I… I won’t let myself go, because of him. For him, I won’t let myself die.

I start crying. Bawling. Completely out of my mind. Crying for my heart, for my mom, for love, crying because I can’t go back. I can’t go back yet, not this way.

He loves you, you know.

Bubbling warmth, Gold.

I love him. I love him so much. I don’t care about this life, not at all. It’s fucking worthless. I want to be up there, with him. I need him.

It starts to dawn on me.

I’ve been missing love, when I’ve tried to feel his presence, down here. Wouldn’t let myself love him, anything but love him. Afraid to show the world how much I love him. It’s too vulnerable, too close to the wound.

I love him, so much. So much that I won’t let myself die, not while he needs me here. I live for him. He is my reason to be.

But it’s obvious!

It’s so simple, in love. I feel him, high, like a devotee in the shrine. I love him above and below.

I start laughing, then crying again, then crying laughing, then laughing through the tears. I roll out of my bed and stand up. It hurts me, badly. I am totally exhausted. But I love him, and I am here.

Well, if I am here, I want to meditate, so I can get centered again, feel him, get started with my day.

Now I’m dying with laughter. After all this shit, I still want to meditate? Insanity. Damn funny. And damn right.

After laughing and crying a while longer, I make my way to the bathroom, wash my face, and sit for an hour. Things and feelings start clicking into place.

My fellowship, I need to let them all know, tell them I got it! I love him. It’s simple.

No wonder they never answered this question for me. This is personal. I love him. And it was obvious to everyone but me, while I was trapped by my emotional shit.

You can’t force someone to open when they are on the edge. It has to be between them and the Divine.

All you can do is hold them, even if they beg you to push them through, fake them through, comfort them in their sleep and misery. You hold them because you are doing everything you can, in Truth. Because you love them.

So much love.

I love you, Barkhan Seer. I love for you. I live for you. Teach me how to serve you. Teach me to love God.

Turning upward, I tune into him higher, meditating. Another click.

A memory of praying, when I am six years old. Praying to Baha’u’llah, another great angel. I am crying because I am so moved, in my devotion. Through my father and mother, He taught me to love the Divine, feel and worship the Spirit in my teacher. And now, I can love Barkhan Seer.

Flashback. Five years old. I am sitting at my mother’s feet, praying with her. My eyes closed, I start spreading into a sphere of golden light and space, my head spinning.

“Mom, I feel dizzy!” I look at her. “What’s wrong?” Her face is concerned, she doesn’t feel anything. I close my eyes again. “It’s gold, and… I’m spinning…”

Archive gold, holding him.

Until now, I was missing love.

Love is simple, pure, high. No grasping, in this fire-ness. I want to serve you. I live for you. I can live.

The world might fucking hurt, still, but we will face it together. I will face it with you, through you, serve you. And the more people I love, the more I have to live for.

Which reminds me, what’s Isabel up to?

All glory to the Teacher.

Intimately Intricate

Where an exploration of the Intricacies of Intimacy can be found. One piece at a time… Come join us.

Andalib Samandari

Written by

Short and sweet essays on living your life to the fullest. Writer for The Ascent, Living Your Life on Purpose, The Post-Grad Survival Guide, and more.

Intimately Intricate

Where an exploration of the Intricacies of Intimacy can be found. One piece at a time… Come join us.

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