Chapter 1: The Storms Within

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This is a tale of the journey of Can Divit's heart when he was forced to flee Istanbul with a broken heart. We all know how Sanem's refusal to reach for his hand affected her, but what about him? What about the heart of Can Divit who opened his heart for the first time in his life, only to have it crushed by the only one he had chosen to trust.

(Author's Note: Please read to the end of the chapter and give us your comments. Don't forget to vote too. Thank you!

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There are storms that ravage the seas. Storms that destroy lands. Then there are the storms invisible to the eye that ravage and destroy the heart and soul of a person. Storms that strip a person bare of who they are and who they were. Leaving in its wake the remains of a raw spirit yearning for calmer seas, mixed with memories of what used to be but cannot be again. 

A lone boat swayed left to right in the angry, wrathful seas. The storm threw high winds against the waves, causing their height to beat against and threaten to swamp the boat. Yet it seemed steady and confident, able to stand against and conquer the storm. One lonely soul sat in the boat, lost in his thoughts.

His eyes were fixed on the faint flame of the lone candle fighting to survive and remain lit against the rocking of the boat. In that flame, images of the days that had passed played out as if he were sitting in a cinema, watching his own life on a movie screen. All these pictures came up to his mind against the backdrop of the most painful image he possessed. His own hand reaching out for and being rejected by the only one he had ever loved. Eleven months, two weeks, and four days had passed since Can Divit had last set foot on dry land. Yet he still feared it as much as he feared his future without Sanem.

Can was a man experienced in life and in his profession. His will was strong. His spirit was lion-hearted and rough around the edges. Choosing to become a photographer of dangerous and secluded places on earth was a conscious decision for him. If he found anything of the light of kindness and sincere love in those places, it meant the world around him was not such a bad place after all. If love did exist somewhere in the world, to him it meant that the pain of his being left behind by his mother at a young age might stand a chance of easing its grip one day.

His photographs were brilliant because the details in them captured the essence and the vividness of the people and nature around him. He had disciplined and trained himself to wait patiently for that one unique photograph, that one perfect image, that could be captured by his camera and held in time within the edges of his pictures. The more he worked in the wild with secluded tribes, and in the rawness of untamed nature, the more he realized it calmed his restless heart. It was this raw beauty of the wilderness that motivated him to tattoo his chest with the image of the albatross. As much as it caused physical pain to have it inscribed on his body, he knew it would be worth it because the image of the albatross inspired him. In times when he doubted himself, that image of the albatross staring back at him in the mirror would remind him of the confidence an albatross has in its own abilities to survive. To keep going. To trust the air under its wings as it glides through the skies and through life.

Can associated himself with the image of the albatross so much that the few friends chosen carefully to be a part of his life began to call him that. It brought him peace. It brought him pride, though he always tried to stay humble. It affected his character to his very core and transformed him. He became reserved but still curious about the world. He despised any dress code. He chose his clothes to be both comfortable and practical. His style reflected who he was as a man, and he never compromised on that. Black and earthy tones enhanced his love for nature. Denim offered comfort. The white shirts he wore on occasion reminded him there are pure virtues in the wilderness not yet corrupted by the outside world. His shoes spoke for themselves. The accessories he often wore acted as an invisible shield against the negativity of those wanting to gain something from him. Much like the moonstones he often held in his hand. He began to tie his hair back. This one ritual reminded him every day that his emotions and past sorrows could and should be controlled, and that he was the only one in control of his life.

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