I fell in love with someone in the not so distant past. Maybe it was a long time ago. During college, when I was a young girl, I had just discovered the meaning of love.

Several of my classmates and I became members of an academic association, and I met him at one of the association meetings, which was very passionate and he spoke with indescribable feelings and energy about various issues.

He was a beautiful young man and he took my heart at first sight. But that was not all. He was a man of freedom. he always would tell me about his travels and his overwhelming life, and I would listen to him with great enthusiasm.

Every time I would saw him on campus, my heart would suddenly be filled with an indescribable fire. I had heard before that the fire of love burns and I had not experienced it until that day. It was so satisfying that I never wanted to let go of it.

The fire of love ignited in me from the first day I met him. I knew very well that this love would not work. The one I fell in love with was the popular and famous king whom everyone worshiped. And I was an awkward girl, and worse than that, I was a religious one with no desire to compromise my beliefs.

The funny thing was that I didn't even want to be with such a person. The Islamic beliefs had tied my hands, and restrictions prevented me from even a kiss.

Anyway, the time on campus ended and he went and married a very gorgeous and attractive Barbie-like girl and traveled abroad and now he is living a good life in one of the European countries with his two children.

I always watched him from a distance and knew that my love had no end. It seemed to be of no use.

17 years have passed since that golden age of youth. I never fell in love with anyone else. And I never experienced that fascinating feeling of being filled with fire, filled with passion, and exploding in my heart. Young people, men, and many others came along, and that feeling of longing was never repeated for me.

I do not know why, maybe because it was my first love or maybe I was so stubborn to let go. All of these passed until a few months ago, all of a sudden, I felt that love was over.

A few months ago, I saw on my Instagram page that someone had liked my adventurous photos, and it was him. I clicked involuntarily and entered his page. I thought, as always, I was going to be eager to see photos of him and his beautiful family. I thought I was going to be heartbroken again and regret it. But this time, seeing him and his photos, I had no feeling. He appeared before my eyes like an ordinary person. A father whose children were all around him.

He had and still has an exciting and adventurous life. But I did too. I had reached the things I saw in my love and longed for. To the adventurous life, to living in the moment, to having exciting memories, to wandering around at nights, and to screaming in the suffocation that I had never dared before, and now he is no longer a lost regret for me. I was no longer limited to his reflection.

After all, it took  17 years, to realize,  that I did not have to find myself in another’s shadow in the name of love. This time I found myself in myself.