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t h i r t e e n

The next week flies by in a blur of worm, training, and stolen moments with my boyfriend. Still a weird feeling to call him that, but I loved it. Each day we grow closer, and the bond between us strengthens. But there is an underlying tension, a ticking clock that we both try to ignore.

It's Friday evening and Kenan is over at my apartment. We are cuddled on the couch, watching a movie, but I can tell he is distracted, just like me. I mute the TV and turn to him. "Kenan...? What is on your mind, you seem to be distracted."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I have been called up for the Euros in Germany with the Turkish national team. I leave in six days, you know that, right?" My heart sinks. I knew this was coming but I wanted to ignore the fact that he would be gone. "How long will you be gone?"

"At least a month, maybe longer if we make it to the later stages," he replies, his voice tinged with regret. "I tried to find a way for you to come, but...your boss. He is the problem." I shake my head, forcing a smile. "I understand. My boss wouldn't give me the time off, you know. The café is too busy."

Kenan takes my hand, his eyes filled with concern. "Mine, I hate leaving you. Especially now that we have just started this. Our relationship, I mean."
"I know," I say, softly. "But we will make it work. We have to." I repeat the exact same words, he always tells me. He nods, pulling me into a tight embrace.
"I will call you everyday. We can video chat, and I will text you whenever I can."

"I will hold you to that," I reply, my voice muddled against his chest.

The next six days pass way too quickly. We spend every moment together, savoring each second as if it were our last. On Sunday evening, we are back at the airport. I kinda want to cry, I am holding myself back right now.

Kenan stands in front of me his bag slang over his shoulder. "I will miss you so much, the fact you cannot even watch me on the pitch is worse to know." He says, his voice thick with emotion. I never experienced him like that.

"I will miss you too," my voice comes out in a whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. "Just stay safe, and play your heart out. But even if you don't, I will still be so proud of you."

He leans down, and places a kiss on my forehead, still my favorite thing ever. When he finally pulls his lips away from my forehead, he rests his forehead against mine. "I love you, Mine. Thought I should tell you, before I leave."

I could cry my entire soul out right now, he said that he loved me. Kenan Yildiz, in love with a no-name waitress. "I love you too,Kenan. Take good care of you." I reply, my voice breaking. I was like a huge baby, to be honest. But I couldn't help it. My nature was like this. He gives me one last, lingering look before turning to head towards the security gate. I watch him go, my heart aching with every step he takes away from me. When he disappears from view, I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. We can do this. We have to. I mean, it's not like he won't come back.

The first few days after Kenan leaves are the hardest, I got so used to having him around. The café is busy as always, but without him, everything feels a bit duller. I try to keep myself occupied, throwing myself into work and spending time with friends, but there is always an emptiness inside. True to his word, my boyfriend calls me every day. We video chat late at night, sharing stories about our days and reassuring each other that we will be okay. At least he seems happy with his national team. But the distance is still there, a constant reminder of how far apart we are.

One evening, Im closing up the café when my phone buzzes with a video call from Kenan. I answer, smiling at the sight of his face. He looks tired but happy, the excitement of the tournament evident in his eyes.

"Hey," I say, leaning against the counter. "How was practice?"
"Tough, but good." He replies. "The teams in high spirits. We are all really pumped for the first match."

"I wish I could be there," I admit, feeling a pang of longing. "I know," he says, his expression softening. "But knowing you are cheering me on from here means everything."

We talk for a while longer, and when we finally say goodnight, I feel a bit more at ease. As I lock up the café and head home, I remind myself that this is temporary. Kenan will be back, and we will pick up right where we left off. The next few days are a rollercoaster of emotions. The Turkish team does well, they win against Georgia. The win brings a surge of pride and excitement, but also a reminder that his return is still uncertain. One night, as I am lying in bed scrolling through social media, I see a video clip of Kenan celebrating a goal, Arda Gülers goal, his friend and teammate. His jos is infectious, and I can't help but smile. But then I read the comments, filled with fans gushing about how handsome he is, how lucky his girlfriend must be. But I indeed was one lucky girl.

The following morning, I wake up to a missed call and a voicemail from Kenan. I listen to it, his voice filling my room. "Hey, love. I just wanted to hear your voice. We have a big game tomorrow, and I could use some of your good luck. Call me when you can. I miss you." I call him back, and we talk for a while, his voice soothing my worries. "I miss you too." I say softly. "Good luck tomorrow, I will be watching."

"Thanks Mine, it means a lot. I will talk to you after the match." As I hang up, I feel a mix of emotions. The distance is hard, but our connection remains strong. I know we will face more challenges, but with each call, each message, we are building something resilient. That evening, as I close up the café, I catch sight of a couple walking by, holding hands and laughing. It makes me think of Kenan and me, and a smile creeps onto my face. We will have our time together again soon. Until then, I will keep cheering him on from afar, holding on to the love that binds us, no matter the distance. But I catch myself thinking...what if I pay a visit to tomorrow's match...?