Learning to Let Go with Faith, alhamdulillah

Assalāmu ʿalaykum - I met a woman not long ago who wasn’t Muslim, but she was so bubbly and always smiling. She brought this warm energy wherever she went and was naturally touchy in a friendly way - grabbing your arm when laughing, patting your shoulder while talking, standing close in conversations. It’s nothing inappropriate, just her manner. When you don’t get that kind of attention much, especially as a man who grew up feeling invisible, it affects you differently. I didn’t grow up in a Muslim community. There weren’t masjid gatherings, Qur’ān classes, or brothers I could turn to about things like this. Most of my friends were non-Muslim and respectful, but I often felt alone in my dīn. My family loved me, alhamdulillāh, yet I felt like I carried my Islam on my own. So when someone like her came into my life - someone who noticed me, laughed at my jokes, seemed to understand without me saying much - I got attached. We shared little moments that felt huge to me. I never crossed any Islamic boundaries or confessed anything, but inside I hoped maybe there was something there. Now, seeing it more clearly, I think that was just her way with everyone - friendly, warm, and outgoing. I feel embarrassed, like I made it up in my head and was the only one who developed feelings. What hurts is I knew better. I knew this couldn’t be something ḥalāl or a foundation for an Islamic future. Still, my heart wanted connection - to be seen and valued - and that vulnerability hit hard. So yeah, I feel a bit foolish. Not because I loved her - I don’t even call it love - but because I cared, I hoped, and I wanted someone to say, “I see you. You’re enough.” Now I’m trying to move on. Some mornings there’s a heavy ache in my chest I can’t explain. I keep making duʿā’ and asking Allāh to free me from this attachment, to help me let go, and to bring someone who’s right for me - a Muslim spouse, beautiful in dīn and character, someone to laugh with, to fast with, and to grow with. I don’t want to chase illusions anymore. I want something real, ḥalāl, and healing.