I spoke to Ummah about leaving for America, and her reaction was less than pleasant. She shouted at me for allowing Western beliefs to consume my rationality. She shouted at me for "abandoning my family," or rather, the lack thereof. She shouted until her voice grew raspy and her anger subsided into sadness, tears rolling down her honeyed cheeks in utter dismay. It was as if she was asking Allah just what did she do wrong.

    Usually, I'd back down and allow for Ummah's wishes to consume my life, but now, much more than my immediate future was on the line. If I were to stay, I'd be forced into a life that I wouldn't want to live--forever hiding from the eyes of my government and family. I also can't afford to lose Amir, who'd turned my life completely upside down in the best way possible. I pushed against Ummah's wishes, screaming that this was something I had to do, that I'd become successful in America only to help my future family. I allowed these lies to slip off my tongue easily, not mentioning that I had no plans of coming back until safety for people like me was ensured.

    Although I love my country, I simply cannot live here safely, and I won't stop fighting until Ummah grants me the right to study abroad and live my life the way I want to. After she stormed off to collect her thoughts, I noticed Sahar come from around the corner. Her face was ghastly pale, so I assumed she'd heard Ummah and I's spat. Instead of yelling at me for leaving her like I had expected, she simply placed her hand on my arm and smiled weakly, promising that she'd make Ummah come around. In that moment, I finally felt love for the woman I was supposed to marry--but I knew it wasn't the kind of love that could satisfy her.