#acaf_j

Tomorrow marks the third Eid since my dad passed away. He died of a stroke, and in many ways, I began losing him the moment he was diagnosed in 2013. So—for all intents and purposes—I’ve been missing him for nearly five years now. We planted a tree on his grave, hoping its bloom would remind us of the love we shared and brighten the quiet emptiness he left behind.

I’ve made peace with most things in life. I try to swallow hard truths and do the right thing even when it’s difficult, just to avoid living with regret. But one regret lingers—the arrogance of youth I once showed my father before he fell ill. It wasn’t out of spite. Just some misguided need to prove myself worthy of his greatness.

What truly blindsided me after his passing was the loneliness. Despite being surrounded by love, there’s a void that nothing fills. It feels indulgent to admit, knowing not everyone had what I had—but I didn’t appreciate it until it was gone. That’s the truth.

There will never be another who loves me as purely and unconditionally as he did. I know this—and he knew it too.

I don’t share this to elicit pity (remember, I was spoiled!). I share it to remind you to appreciate the ones who love you. If you care about them, show them. Let them know what they mean to you. That’s all—it’s not rocket science.

Hi, just a post to let you know that I’m still alive. Sorry, I haven’t been around much lately. I’m still figuring everything all out.

But seriously, I miss writing. It really helped me through a difficult time in my life. Maybe I should start writing again, or perhaps I should publish some of my drafts. Oh wells...

Today wasn’t a bad day. But it wasn’t a good day either. I miss having the great days. The days that when you go to bed, you wake up the next day with a smile on your face. It’s hard to have those days after everything that happened. I know they will come back. Eventually.

To be honest, I’m not great at dealing with things when I’m upset. I’ve been strong and cope incredibly well for so long, but when the storm settles, even the smallest things trigger me to be upset -  you know, when it rains, it pours. Sometimes I feel like this white wall is crashing down on me.

Right now when it’s good, it’s okay. When it’s bad, everything hurts. It’s hard to stay positive when what brought so much love and light into your life has been taken away.

A part of being a strong person isn’t about fighting away the demons around you. It’s about staying in the light when the darkness surrounds you. It’s about knowing that it’s okay to fall apart. Falling apart doesn’t make you weak.

We muster strength from the strangest of places. For me, I get it from my mom, my friends and my own self-worth. When you’ve been knocked down before you can build yourself up again, you gotta make yourself stronger with your self-worth. If you believe that you are worthy of happiness, trust me, everything else will follow.

I know the passing of my father was a dark time, but he wouldn’t want it to consume me. I know, and he knows that I am worth far more than that, wherever he may be.

Back in the days, I was obsessed with the idea of perfection, I was obsessed with seeming perfect to others, I was obsessed with people that seemed perfect.

I realised this obsession came from a deep source inside myself; my own festering insecurities. To overcome my insecurities I had to tell myself one thing…

Perfection doesn’t exist. No one is perfect. Your parents aren’t perfect, your friends aren’t perfect, the people you date aren’t perfect.

The crazy thing about perfection is that it’s incredibly subjective. What I think is “perfect” may not be perfect to you, and vice versa. This is where society holds it’s power.

We need to embrace and appreciate what makes us different. I think being different is beautiful, but I didn’t always. I wish I had the clarity and outlook on life back then as I do now. I would have spared myself so much heartache from beating myself down.

I challenge those who stumble upon this to think about what you think perfect is, and then crush that idea. Think about what someone else thinks perfect is. Open your mind to that idea, then pass it on.

We all have secrets.

Oftentimes when you think about secrets you’d think of malicious, hurtful or even detrimental information being withheld from the world. But to tell you the truth, that’s not always the case. Intention is a close rule to follow.

Sometimes secrets are kept to protect yourself, some are to protect others. Today I learnt about a friend that has kept a secret from me. It has been a selfless act of the greatest kind that I cannot even begin to describe. To protect their integrity and dignity I won’t be revealing it.

I’m not as selfless as I may seem. I don’t have the inner strength to put others ahead of myself to that extent. I admire people who can, frankly speaking.

You can spend your life knowing someone and one tiny piece of information changes everything. They are so much greater in character than you could ever imagine.

I indulge the pleasure of my company, it’s my idiosyncrasy, and I don’t think I’ll ever return to normalcy.

I go to cinema on my own, shop alone, have a nice meal all by myself, go jogging, and take a long night drive - on my own.

I surrounded myself around these walls, a solitude I called my shelter.

Maybe I’m a private person, which is partly true.

But to be honest, it’s pretty intimidating to let someone in and let them see the darkest hidden parts of your self.

I guess mysteries do play an integral part of my life. All I can say is that as much as it can make a person, it can break him too - because the secret we share could attract or appall people around us.

These past few weeks have been hella hectic. I’ve secured a new place for my pupillage after I left a humble firm back in town. Though I had to travel back and forth from one state to another, I still think it’s under control. I’ve met a lot of new faces from different backgrounds along the way. I’ve learned so many new things from this experience and the learning process has no end to it. It's been humbling.

It’s crazy how your life can change in the blink of an eye. One minute I was living on the other side of a foreign city, next I’m back in my home city, blink again and I am actually working in a place I was born. You never know what’s around the corner.

The best thing about this move is the distractions I had to ignore. I haven’t felt overly upset about anything in over three months that I could give a nice pat on my back. Usually I would be dragged down most days, missing my father and my best friend. But I don’t have time for that anymore. I don’t really spend much time thinking on things I shouldn’t be thinking of. Prolly because I sleep on time and wake up earlier than my alarm clock does. Things have been super productive and tiring at the same time.