For my wife
Time has never been gentle with me.
It’s a sculptor with cold hands,
a teacher with no mercy,
a river that carries pieces of me downstream
without asking if I was ready to let them go.
But then—
there was you.
And suddenly time didn’t feel like an enemy.
It felt like a witness.
It felt like it had been waiting
its entire eternal life
just to introduce me to the moment
you walked in.
I swear, the clocks paused that day,
just for a breath.
As if even they knew
they were no longer in control of my hours.
Because from the second I met you,
every minute I had
started learning how to bow in your direction.
Love with you never arrived quietly.
It came like a sunrise with something to prove—
loud, golden, unapologetic,
pushing darkness off my skin
like it never had a right to cling to me.
You became the reason my heartbeat
finally sounded like a song
instead of an alarm.
And time…
time began to soften its voice around you.
It didn’t rush me.
It didn’t punish me.
It didn’t steal anything.
With you, time became a gift,
wrapped in the warmth of your laugh,
the safety of your voice,
the certainty of your presence.
And I realized—
this world can take everything from a man:
sleep, peace, pride, direction…
but if he has a woman like you,
he never loses himself.
See, you’re not just my wife.
You’re the hour I waited my whole life to reach.
You’re the tomorrow I kept praying
would someday feel different.
You’re the proof
that Allah places miracles in plain sight
just to see if a man can recognize home
when he’s standing in it.
Loving you has changed the shape of my time.
Before you, the days were heavy.
Now, they are sacred.
Before you, time dragged me.
Now, it dances with me.
And every step is choreographed
by the way your love holds me steady
when life tries to shake me loose.
You are my quiet in the middle of chaos.
You are the stillness that lets me breathe again.
You are the reason
I can close my eyes at night
and actually rest
instead of surviving sleep.
And if time ever tries to test me,
if it ever threatens to take you from me,
if it ever dares to measure my love
in days, years, or decades—
I will remind it
that eternity doesn’t live in numbers.
It lives in moments.
Moments like your hand in mine.
Your head on my chest.
Your voice saying my name
like it was carved just for your mouth.
Moments where even the universe leans in,
quiet, humbled,
watching a love it had no part in designing
but every part in protecting.
I would relive every scar,
every loss,
every hour that tried to break me
just to arrive again
in the moment you said,
“I’m yours.”
And if time asked me for proof—
if it wanted receipts for my devotion—
I’d show it the way I look at you
when you’re not paying attention.
The way my soul exhales
when you step into a room.
The way my future
has your silhouette in every doorway.
You are my world,
my reason,
my forever unfolding.
And if the clocks stop tomorrow,
if the sun refuses to rise,
if time decides it’s had enough—
