The albatross journey

50 - 29 October

Sanem

I enter the house knowing that I have a stupid smile on my face.

Those wild flowers I love so much, the card and the meaningful message with the words of our favourite author, not to mention everything he said and did today.
Every word, every look, every smile has done nothing but undermine the very foundations of the defences I am trying so hard to keep up against him, to prevent him from touching my heart again.

I have to admit that it's getting more and more difficult to remain indifferent and not let go of this sort of siege he has decided to put in place against me, having to pose for him today has been exhausting, having his gaze on me all day has shaken me to the core, I can't deny it.

Luckily tomorrow is 29 October, Republic Day in Turkey, so all activities stop for a day and so will the filming of the advertising campaign for Zarafet. Tomorrow I will finally have a much-needed day of rest, but above all a respite from him, from his words, his looks and his closeness, which in the last few days, since he unexpectedly showed up at the agency, have put me to the test.

Tomorrow, 29 October, is Republic Day and ... I can't help thinking about another 29 October, a year ago, a birthday party and an unexpected marriage proposal.
I tell myself that thinking about this should bring me back down to earth, remembering that he had made the biggest commitment to me, that he had promised me eternal love and then left who knows where without any hesitation, should make me understand that I cannot trust him.
Yet I can't help thinking that tomorrow is his birthday and he will be here in Ankara, alone, far from family and friends, in a city where he knows no one but me.
Ah Sanem, is it possible that you can't move on and forget him? You fool!

I shake my head dejectedly as I go up to my room for a quick shower before collapsing destroyed on the bed, I brought with me a plate of fruit which I eat absent-mindedly while talking on the phone first with my sister and then with my parents.
Everyone is excited because Emre and Layla's wedding is less than a month away and preparations are in full swing. I would have liked to live this moment next to my sister, but work is work and now my life is here, in Ankara, I will try to go back to Istanbul a few days before the wedding so that I can live with her and my mother the last preparations and the henna night.
I also call Ayhan to agree on how much to buy in anticipation of that evening as we have offered to organise the event in a delightful venue overlooking the Bosphorus.

I finally turn off the light hoping that tiredness will get the better of the tension I've been under all day, but once again sleep is hard to come by, I hear the signal of a notification when it's almost midnight and all I do is toss and turn in bed for over an hour. I check my phone and smile at Mihriban's invitation to lunch the next day, an unpretentious lunch, she writes, with his friendly neighbours Murat and Nehir.

For a moment my thoughts go back to him, to the birthday he will probably spend alone, and my stupid heart clenches with sorrow, but soon my rational side reminds me that who knows how many birthdays he will have spent alone during his travels around the world, this will be neither the first nor the last, I think pragmatically.
I send her a message to accept with pleasure her invitation and somehow the thought of the free day and the nice company that awaits me the next day helps me to finally fall asleep, the last thought before falling asleep is that maybe the next day I could take advantage of the free time to prepare a borek to bring as a gift to the wines of the house to welcome them.
It is a tradition rooted in the world I grew up in, an obligation that must be respected always and everywhere, my mother always told me. I have work to do, I don't know if I'll have the time, I think for a moment before falling into a strangely deep sleep like I haven't had for a long time.

___________________________________

Mihriban

Can Divit