Life Of Salma Muhammad

<h4 style="text-align: center;">Page Two: sweet sweet Jennifer</h4> Dear Diary, After everything I wrote in Page One, I kept thinking about how weird it is that life just keeps moving no matter what’s going on inside you.Like, nothing pauses for you. Nothing waits.Anyway, this is Page Two.School in my senior year wasn’t anything special. It was just noise, people, and routines I followed because I had to, not because I wanted to.That was also when I got my phone.That sounds small, but it changed a lot.That was how I met the internet properly. Not the filtered version adults talk about, but the real one—messy, endless, and kind of addictive in a way I didn’t expect.At first, I wasn’t even that interested. I still preferred staying in my head or watching cartoons and Indian movies when I could. That felt safer. Predictable.But then I started reading more online.Not the small stuff I used to read when I was younger, like Wimpy Kid or Dork Diaries. I’m talking about long romance novels—hundreds and hundreds of chapters.And I got addicted fast.I would read until my eyes hurt. Then I’d rest, and start another one immediately after. It was like I couldn’t stop myself even when I wanted to.Somewhere in that cycle, my head started building its own stories too. Not just reading anymore—imagining. Adding things. Changing endings. Creating people that didn’t exist.That’s when I started writing properly.I wrote a lot. Over ten books if I’m honest. Two of them were actually finished. People read them and said they were good, which confused me more than anything.Because I didn’t really think I knew what I was doing.But I liked it.And for a while, it felt like I had something that was mine.Then there was Jennifer.Jennifer was in my class. She wasn’t loud or dramatic or anything like that. She was just… there. The kind of person people naturally noticed without trying.I don’t even know when I started liking her. It wasn’t a big moment. It just slowly happened.She used to talk to me sometimes. Small conversations. Nothing deep. But for some reason, I remembered everything she said.The way she said my name. The way she laughed at things that weren’t even that funny. The way she acted like I was normal.I think that was the part that stayed with me the most.Because I never really felt normal around people.With Jennifer, I almost did.Almost.But I never told her anything. Not how I felt. Not how my head works. Not anything real.I just stayed quiet and acted like I was fine.That’s what I usually do anyway.There were also the hospital days.I didn’t really talk about that part before, but it’s a big part of my life.I’ve spent a lot of time around hospitals and medication, not because I wanted to, but because I have a health condition. It comes with pain episodes sometimes, and those days are… complicated.People think hospitals are just scary or boring. For me, it was both. But also familiar.There was one medication they gave me during those episodes that made everything feel distant. Like my body wasn’t as heavy as usual. I can’t even explain it properly without it sounding weird, so I won’t try to romanticise it.But I will say this: I didn’t like the pain. Nobody would.The relief afterwards just made everything feel different by comparison.That’s all.Most of the time, I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about my life.Sometimes I think I’m just someone trying to understand herself after the fact.Other times I think I already know, I just don’t like the answer.Jennifer doesn’t know any of this.No one really does.

Life Of Salma Muhammad

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