Ambivert

There was a time I spoke of my dreams the way a child speaks of the stars softly, innocently, with affection in my voice.  I shared them not as a burden, not as a demand, but simply as a piece of my heart. And somewhere along the way, my dreams were misunderstood, and the very thing I had trusted with affection was turned into something to laugh at. That laughter did not just echo in the air, it echoed inside my chest. And something fragile within me shattered quietly. My intention had been pure. My words had been gentle. But still, they were misunderstood. So slowly I learned to hold my heart back, to keep my dreams folded within my silence. Today, while standing in prayer, I spoke of those same dreams again but this time only to Allah. And suddenly I understood something. Those dreams were never meant to be carried by the world. Where my sincerity was misunderstood, Allah understood it before I even spoke. Where my heart once felt small, He made it feel seen. For I always knew th...