Finally together

Meeting

Sanem POV

"Madam, wake up!", someone's whisper came to me from afar. It grew louder and sounded closer.

"Sorry, madam. Please wake up." I opened my eyes and saw in front of me the worried face of the flight attendant, who squatted down in front of me and gently shook my shoulder. I looked around, I was flying somewhere. Where? Come on, Sanem, come to your senses and stop scaring people.

"Sorry, madam," the young girl really looked scared, "I didn't want to disturb you, but you probably had a bad dream, you cried in your sleep."

I mechanically rubbed my face; my cheeks were wet. I stopped being surprised; this phenomenon was so common. I had my "worst" dream too often, and the reaction was always the same - I cried. Either because even in my sleep I understood that it was a dream, or I knew that now the dream would end and I would wake up. I have been tormented by this nightmare for four years now and I could not get rid of it. I couldn't because I didn't want to.

"It's okay, I'm sorry", I really felt embarrassed for disturbing people. Another flight attendant came up to us and brought a glass of water: "Please, madam," she handed me the water and immediately disappeared behind the curtain. Her colleague waited while I took a couple of sips and, making sure that everything was okay with me, also disappeared behind the curtain, grabbing my glass. I turned to the window and stared into the darkness. Thoughts and memories began to attack me, but I diligently drove them away. It was impossible to cope with this. I felt a new wave of despair and tears roll over me.

The hardest thing in a relationship is leaving when you love the person more than anything in the world, more than yourself. The hardest thing is to let go of your loved one when you are one step away from happiness. It is an impossible task to give him freedom and survive after that. But I did it, I had to do it. This was the only way out of the impasse into which life had driven Can and me. I loved Can with all my heart, with all the fibers of my soul, with all my gut. I lived it, breathed it. I thought that HE was everything to me, that I could not exist without him. But it turned out that I didn't know myself. I didn't understand at all what real life was, real pain and despair.

After the accident, I made a decision for myself that I would never be able to breathe without him, so I will do everything so that he remembers me, so that he remembers his boundless love for me. But that evening, when I saw Can with Aiche and her friends in his usual circle, I realized that it was pointless to fight. He is from another world and whatever I achieve, I will lock my Albatross back in the cage. I loved him and wanted to give him happiness, and not take it away, while losing respect for myself. I realized that I was not ready to lose myself in order to save him.

At that moment, when Can's lips were just a few millimeters from my lips, I looked at the situation through his eyes. Just for one minute, I put myself in his place and was horrified. I am a stranger to him; he doesn't know me. Yes, perhaps Emre told him that I was in the clinic, that I could not cope with our separation and his conscience tormented him. He may have learned a lot from my book. But the reality was this: I was a stranger to him, "different."

So, I left. I left, leaving Can and my past life far behind me, and during that time I never looked back. Because I didn't want to turn around and see Can with another woman - with Aiche or Polen. Or maybe someone completely different. Although I was sure that even if there was a woman next to him, he still did not belong to her. Because he is an albatross, a loner. I was afraid to look back and find myself in the void again. I was able to be decisive, I was able to find the strength to break away from Can and leave. But there was one thing I lacked - the strength and determination to give up completely. I left him in my memories, in my books, in my life. Although I did not dare to dream about him, sometimes I allowed myself to admit the thought that if our meeting at the opera was not a simple stupid game of fate, then my albatross would return to me, no matter where he was flying now. And while he is flying, I am running away. I'm running away from myself, from my melancholy.