Soul Between​

A Candle Defying the Wind: I am “Nawar,” and This is My Story

The Journey of a Life Between Worlds

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A Flicker Against the Void

​I am a human being named “Nawar.” I don’t truly know where to begin, but I am intimately familiar with the sensation that dwells within me — a constriction that borders on terror. Sometimes, the thought of departing this life haunts me, yet I hesitate; I am held back by a fear of the unknown after death and a lingering curiosity about what destiny might hide for me tomorrow. I am caught in the middle, unable to move forward yet unable to stop. Between moments of weeping and others of laughter despite the pain, I tell myself: “There is still more to come.”

​A Stranger at the Family Table

​At twenty-six, I feel as though I am still a stranger to this world. My most difficult moments are those spent sitting at the same table with my aunt and her children. This woman raised me and sacrificed for me, and her husband is a man I regard as my father. Yet, in those moments, a sincere and terrifying realization strikes me: “I do not belong here.” I ask myself, “Who am I to even sit among them?” This secret, which I hide from everyone and fear to utter to any living soul, tears me apart from within. I fear the void I might leave behind, thinking bitterly: “A year or two after I’m gone, who will even remember the name Nawar?”

​Masked Laughter and the Bitterness of Delay

​I live with two faces: one that laughs with friends, but it is a “manufactured” laughter that never reaches the heart. I find a temporary solace in their company, but the moment I am alone, that “sickness” returns to consume me. I studied and struggled in school but reached no destination; I worked many jobs but never finished what I started; even the military, I couldn’t endure for more than a week. I truly do not know what is happening to me.

​My greatest struggle is “timing.” I have never received anything I wished for when I actually wanted it. As a child, I longed for a bicycle, but it only arrived after I had grown up and my passion for it had faded. Now, I see my simple dreams — a car, a home, a dignified job — as towering mountains before me. I only want to live with my head held high, without complaining or weeping to anyone.

​The Candle That Refuses to Fade

​It both amuses and pains me to be certain that life is merely a “function” or a game; that once a person departs, people begin to forget their face, their voice, and their movements — leaving sorrow to dwell only in the heart of a mother.

​Despite all this negativity, and despite my urge to erase everything I write, one thing stops me. There is a “candle” in my heart; whenever it dims or flickers, it reignites. It is what keeps me going, even though I do not know the end. It is like a candle that refuses to be extinguished until it has burned its full length and my life reaches its natural conclusion.

​My Question to the World

​I am not sharing this in search of sympathy; I am emptying my heart to feel a temporary relief, like someone taking a painkiller. My question to anyone reading this is: Am I alone in feeling this lost? Is this merely a psychological ailment, or is it a deep, human sense of alienation?

​I am “Nawar.” I am still here, trying to understand, trying to live — and my candle is still resisting.

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