Ma, I’m Sorry I Failed You

Ma,

You asked me to take care of Dady and Kuya, but I didn’t. I pushed them away, let them be swallowed by depression, moved away from them, I decided to be alone. I didn’t take care of them like I promised, because I can’t. I am not strong as you. I am not you.

You asked me to stay strong. I tried, Mom. But you forgot to teach me exactly what it means. Why didn’t you tell me that stubbornness is different from strength? I knew you were strong, but I am not you.

I promised you that I will pursue our dreams, that I’ll attach a title on my name, but I didn’t. I got scared, Mom. I got scared that I wasn’t intelligent enough or talented enough or confident enough. I got scared of rejection, of losing again. I am scared that I can’t survive out there, because I am not you.

I hurt our boys and left them on their own. I have no career to be proud of. My life is a mess. My achievements are superficial. I hurt everybody around me. I am fucked up. I’m sorry, but I failed you.

You told me to take care of them, but I didn’t.

You told me to be strong, but I wasn’t.

I promised you that I’ll be fine, but Mom, I’m not.

I’m sorry I failed you.

If you were here, I know you’ll tell me how everything will be fine.. How everything is just a matter of perspective.. How smart and strong and independent I am, and how these characteristics will bring me to places. I know you’ll hold my hand and assure me that God has a plan for my life and I just have to hold on to His promises.

But I’m lost, Mom. And I’m afraid. And I need your arms to reassure me that I am not alone and we’ll make it through together, just like what we planned.

I’m sorry that I lied when I told you that I’ll be strong for everybody. We need you here. We all do. But I guess they need you more up there.

Can I borrow you for one last time, though? One last reassurance? One last hug? One last squeeze of my hand? One last smile?

 I’m sorry, but your little girl needs you still.

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To the Someone of my Someday


You know my story. You met me when I was literally at my worst. You knew how my heart was shattered to thousands of pieces because of thousand reasons, yet you stayed.

You heard me sing my favorite heartache song, and you even sing with me whenever you feel like I had too much dose of self-pity for the day. You knew that I needed someone, and so you stayed.

I sang,

Someday, someone’s gonna love me the way I wanted you to need me..

Someday, someone’s gonna take your place..

..and you were insane enough to listen until the end.

I sang,

One day, I’ll forget about you..

You’ll see, I won’t even miss you…

Someday, I know someone’s gonna be there!

And you only listened to my endless cries and mumbles about the bitter past.

You know how real that song is for me, because the only wrong thing I did was to love too much, and was only hurt too deeply. The song became my mantra, my personal prayer of hope.

I don’t know if, at one point, you ever realized this, but you turned out to be the someone in my someday. You became the love I didn’t know I needed. You became the answer to the prayer that I’ve been singing for a long time.

Now, every time I sing that song, it’s no longer to make myself believe and hope and mourn for what I lost; I sing it now as a proof that some wishes (if you wish hard enough) could be and would be granted.

To my falling star, my wishbone, my 11:11, my birthday candle, my love, thanks for the thousand days of patience. You are my favorite song.

To The Little Bird Who Wishes to Fly,

I know that sometimes, the world scares you.

 Sometimes, you feel like you are way too small for a world too vast. You look down and see the boastful mountains, the tall trees, the serpents and beasts that rule the land. You look up and see an endless blanket of sky with occasional patches of uncaring clouds — and the all scare you. You look around and see a world both full and empty.

Sometimes, you forget that you have wings — that you are meant to fly. I know that you’re overpowered by fear that you forget your wings, no matter how small, can bring you to places that some can only imagine.

You may not be as quick as a hawk, nor as strong as an eagle, nor as graceful as a swan.. But you are, nonetheless, a bird who deserves nothing but freedom.

Do not let your fear overpower you. You wish to fly, so fly as you should. You wish to see the world and enjoy its beauty? You wish to play with the clouds? You wish to try living in every tree there is?you wish to leave your little nest and feel the wind on your face and glide over the mountaintops?

Then fly, little one.

Fly like you have wings, because you do. Fly like you are free, because you are. Fly like you care for nothing else in the world. Fly like flying is your only purpose in life. Fly like the world and you won’t get the chance to fly again.

Just fly, little one.

Just fly.
– H

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The Late Warrior’s Tale

Dubai in 100 Days || Day 9:

October 9 is my annual day of mourning for 5 years now, for losing the strongest fighter I ever met — my Mom. 

The busy life here in Dubai kind of stripped me off the chance to do my mourning, so I’ll do it in the most beautiful way I can.



Mom, if you can read this, please know that I am trying so hard to forgive myself for not being able to kiss you one last time, for not being beside you, for not reading to you that final letter I wrote few days before. I thought I was ready, but again, I was late. Too late. Too late. 
Five years, and I miss you still. The amount of tears I shed whenever I think of you never diminish. 

The little girl in me died the moment she touched your cold hand and waited for your chest to move. She died when she saw your discolored skin. She died when she realized that there’s nothing left for her.

She died, and the lady in me was born. 
The mommy’s girl really can’t leave your side, I think. I hope she’s making you happy up there. 

I miss you terribly. I still wish I’m dreaming and would wake up beside you and you would hug me tight and ask me what’s wrong. I hope I wake up soon. 

– H

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Dearest Tiny Light, 

​Dubai in 100 Days || Day6

I know you’re not as strong anymore.. I know you feel small in this city full of glorious  skyscrapers. I know how much you crave for inner silence in this world full of outer noise. I know how much you want to be swallowed by darkness and claim your well-craved peace. 

But, listen. 

You may just be a tiny light in the world full of darkness, and you might not think of it as important, but you see, it’s your tiny bit of light that makes all the difference. Your light — your tiniest, inessential light — may be someone’s only guide towards hope. You may be someone’s sole source of light. 

The world is not dark. It is just full of tiny people who decided to extinguish their light because they, too, felt unimportant. It is just full of millions of broken, forgotten, neglected tiny lights who chose to not make that small difference that they are capable of because they, too, felt like they have nothing to contribute.

Do you see it now? Light is not an absence of darkness. Rather, darkness is simply the absence of light. 

And the light is — and has always, ALWAYS been — in our hands. 

– H

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PHOTO ¦ Tiny golden lamp worth 1 Dirham bought from a local store in Diera