I yearn for times passed so long ago. My yearning robs me of the hope that was once my saviour. But I am determined to give the pain I feel a greater purpose – one of spreading love and kindness in the tired hearts of those who, in spite of it all, still have so much to give.
I hear an echo travelling from sleepless towns far away; towns whose sons and daughters are fighting and dreaming, their voices screaming to be set free from their captor. The voices call for peace, for love and for freedom.
Hassan will always be my friend. He who stood proudly in the middle of the Court of Justice in Damascus and called for freedom, without a single shred of doubt, fear or hesitation clouding his mind. With him, we stood hand in hand, crying out for the liberty that had been stolen from us. His voice will never be silenced. He will continue to speak for truth, for dignity and for the rights of all Syrians.
Every sect and background united around him that day and we were all triumphant. We triumphed against the tyrant in our country, and Hassan was victorious against the tyrants of the world. Hassan the Alawite, the Syrian, the revolutionary, the patriot, the man whose love for his country was so deep, his powerful words will forever be engraved in the hearts of everyone who listened: “We are all Syrians, we are all Syrians!”
I yearn for that day. That day where peace brought us all together in that small square outside the Court of Justice in Damascus, no matter our sect or religion. Sunnis, Alawites, Druze, Arabs, Kurds – our hearts all beat as one, drumming the rhythm of victory.
Hassan will always be my friend. He will always be dignified. He will always be pure. Just like our revolution.