Sharjah Β· UAE β‘
π
United Arab Emirates
Where our story lives
"The city glows brighter the moment your plane touches down."
The city lights are waiting. The flowers are waiting. And I am waiting most of all. β Mohamad
π Pop the balloons floating byβ¦ each one carries a secret
My dearest Dima, every morning here starts the same way β I check how many days are left, and I smile, because each sunrise is one less between us.
Sharjah is beautiful, but it has felt like a city on pause. The corniche misses your footsteps, the evening breeze misses your laugh, and our home misses its heart. When you land, everything switches back on.
And then, habibti β one week later, we chase colorful harbors in Denmark and fjords in Norway. But honestly? My favorite destination has always been wherever you are.
Dima, you spend your days fighting one of humanity's hardest battles, one careful experiment at a time. You read cells the way poets read verses, and you never, ever give up. The world is lucky to have your mind. I'm the luckiest, because I have your heart.
Under every one of your findings, there should be a footnote: "Also β her husband is impossibly proud of her."
Airport hugs, the longest one on record. Then home β flowers on the table, your favorite tea ready, and a husband who hasn't stopped smiling.
Corniche walks at sunset, karak in the evening breeze, and catching up on every little story we saved for each other.
Pastel harbors in Copenhagen, then north to fjords, waterfalls and skies that never quite go dark β with my hand in yours the whole way.
"The city glows brighter the moment your plane touches down."
"Rainbow houses by the water β still less colorful than life with you."
"Even the northern lights will be watching us, a little jealous."
πΈ Touch each flower and watch what growsβ¦