Prohibiting myself from dating and focusing solely on law school always sounded like the responsible thing to do. For a while, I thought it was the only way to succeed. But I never anticipated how lonely the pursuit could feel. Who do I run to when things get overwhelming? Who do I celebrate with when I’ve achieved something no one else saw the sleepless nights behind? Who’s there when I’m burnt out, when I cry quietly over readings I don’t understand, over exams I fear I’ll never be enough for?

The answer has always been you, Haziq.

For the past year, you’ve been my safe place. You’ve stood beside me when I doubted myself the most—telling me gently but firmly that I am going to be a great lawyer someday. You’ve reminded me of my worth when all I could see were my shortcomings. You’ve held space for me in moments when the world felt too loud, and I just needed to escape. You were never just a listener—you were my biggest cheerleader, my quiet strength, my person.

Even when I pushed you away in the name of ambition, you stayed. You never asked for more than I could give, but you gave me everything—your patience, your unwavering belief, and your love in the softest, least demanding way. You celebrated every small win as though it was your own, and when things got too hard, you didn’t run. You simply stayed, arms open.

So today, as I look back on these years—not just as a law student, but as someone growing into herself—I need to say this: Thank you, Haziq. For never making me choose between love and dreams. For being the constant in a life that’s always in motion. For being home, always.