It started with a simple comment. One of those offhand remarks that somehow grow into an obsession.
“I think I want to move to Dubai,” you said, leaning back against the sofa with your phone in your hand, scrolling through some social media feed, as if it wasn’t a life-changing statement. But I knew you well enough by now—there was something behind that comment, something deeper. You always did things with passion, with intensity, and when you spoke, you didn’t just speak. You meant things.
I raised an eyebrow, not quite believing what I had just heard. “Dubai?” I repeated slowly, like I needed to make sure I understood. “You want to leave everything behind here? Just like that?”
You flashed me a grin, the kind you give when you’re about to convince someone of something that sounds completely impossible. “Why not?” you shrugged. “I mean, why not Dubai? It’s bright, it’s full of possibilities, and everything there seems so… effortless.”
I laughed. “Effortless? You’ve got to be kidding. Have you seen how expensive Dubai is? It’s not some beach vacation spot; it’s a city of ambition and luxury.”
You leaned forward now, your eyes sparkling. “Exactly! It’s the place where dreams happen. It’s shiny. It’s glitzy. And I want to be a part of it, Habibi! The beaches, the skyscrapers, the shopping, the luxury—it’s like living in a dream.”
I shook my head, smiling. “You’re crazy. But seriously, what’s gotten into you? Dubai is thousands of miles away. Do you even know anyone there?”
You bit your lip, considering. “Not yet. But that’s the beauty of it, right? I could start fresh, explore new things, meet new people. Think about it: Dubai is a hub for everything—business, culture, innovation. There are so many opportunities.”
I stood there for a moment, staring at you. In your eyes, I saw the spark of something dangerous. That spark that made you believe anything was possible. That spark that made people like you chase the biggest dreams, regardless of how impractical or insane they seemed.
But you weren’t wrong. Dubai did have a way of pulling you in, making you believe that everything was possible. The city had a magic to it—towering skyscrapers that seemed to pierce the sky, shopping malls so vast they felt like cities within themselves, beaches so perfect they could have been from a postcard. Dubai was a place of excess and ambition. It wasn’t about modesty—it was about grand gestures and dreams made real. And I could see it in your eyes: Dubai wasn’t just a city to you; it was a destination.
“Okay,” I finally said, unable to suppress my grin. “Let’s just say you actually move there. What’s your plan, Habibi? How are you going to make this happen?”
You sat up straighter, clearly ready to pitch your idea. “First, I need to figure out the visa situation. Then I’d start looking for a job—maybe something in tech, or even in the hospitality industry. There’s a market for everything in Dubai. Plus, I could pick up Arabic while I’m there. Oh, and maybe I’d do a little freelance work too.”
“You think you’re going to just land in Dubai and boom, be set?” I asked skeptically, though I couldn’t help but admire your confidence. “It’s not a place for tourists. It’s a city full of people working like crazy, people who’ve built their entire lives around making it.”
But I already knew you. When you set your mind on something, there was no turning back. You’d get there one way or another. Whether you had the perfect job waiting for you or not, whether you knew anyone or not, you’d find a way to make it work. I loved that about you—that fearlessness.
“Don’t worry,” you said, winking. “I’ve got this. You know, it’s not just about the luxury and the beach clubs. It’s about the energy, the vibe of the place. It feels alive. People are always hustling, striving for something. I could be one of those people, Habibi.”
I folded my arms across my chest, my mind racing. “It’s not all sunshine and Instagram-worthy shots. Dubai’s got its challenges too—cost of living, pressure to keep up, and honestly, it’s not as easy as it looks from the outside. Sure, it’s beautiful, but there’s a whole other side of the story you don’t see in the pictures.”
You paused for a moment, clearly thinking it through. “I know, I know. But I’m ready for the challenge. You’ve seen me, I’ve always been up for a good challenge. The big life. I want to live the dream.”
I couldn’t deny that. You had always been the dreamer—the one who believed in the next big thing, the one who would dive in headfirst without hesitation. You didn’t just want to live; you wanted to experience everything that came with it, good and bad.
And so, the plan began to take shape. We started researching: how to get a visa, job opportunities, neighborhoods, the cost of living, even what kind of food you could find at the local markets. Your excitement was contagious, and though part of me still thought you were a little crazy, another part of me was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, this was exactly the kind of move you needed to make.
A week later, you looked at me, wide-eyed. “I did it.”
I blinked. “Did what?”
“I’ve already started the paperwork,” you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “And I found a place to stay. A friend of a friend in Dubai knows someone who’s renting out an apartment. It’s perfect, Habibi. It’s happening.”
I stared at you, astonished. “You’re serious.”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.
Habibi wants to move to Dubai now. And knowing you, I have no doubt that you will. Because when you dream, you dream big.
