One semester has ended. How fast time leaped, how many had changed? Past few months had witnessed transitions - of ups and downs, tears and laugh, love and lies. And so many times something tapped on my dear little heart, hoping to be given an entry, and so many times in return, I replied back a refusal, unconsciously doing so. As desert in droughts, I felt as dry as that. I'm thirsty, but no water can satisfy me. It's like looking for something in the dark, how am I supposed to find it without any light? I know I couldn't, even with my eyes wide open. Syahadatul Haq - the night where it bottled up, where everything came at once and tried to shove the truth in front of my pallid face. How much denial can I take? And how long must it take for me to actually realise? The pathway had been laid out in front of me, for me to walk on and knowing that this is the source of light I've been waiting for, to guide me through and to lead my hand. At first, I was dumbstruck. It was too heavy, too much of a weight for my weak shoulder to bear. Trying to contain the pool of water from streaming down - such a pride. Not wanting to let my guards down, not intending to let my weakness and guilt to show - even towards my Creator. What was I thinking, He knows me better than I do myself. I was cold and I was confused. I took a blanket and wrapped myself in warmth I did not know existed, and it kept the cold away, at least for one night. The next day was when I broke the silence, and that's when she came. As few seamless words escaped from my trembling lips, the pool of water was broken free. I spoke of my cold, frozen inside. I spoke of my guilt and of my sheer stupidity. I spoke of the tale of heart I kept for so long, in a language I knew she would understand, of all people. I knew she would not judge. I knew she would not cringed away from me. And yes, she didn't disappoint. And that made a big difference.