playing with magic

As I sit at a restaurant enjoying a cool drink, in one of the many suburbs of Istanbul, I realize certain things about love and loss. On this cool summer evening, as the sun sets and rich amber and gold colors fill the blue sky, I'm sipping minty lemonade and listening to my friend talk about love and fate.

I find it fascinating how everyone is convinced that their perspective about love and fate is absolute. I value advice and I always appreciate it when people share their reasonings about relationships, which is why I am talking about it tonight. Everyone's opinions are invariably shaped by their experiences and I am of the humble opinion that those experiences are always unique. No two experiences are ever the same; therefore, no two relationships are ever the same. Although something is always to be learned from friends, one must err on the side of caution. What holds true for someone does not necessarily hold true for everyone. I know this sounds quiet trivial for me to write, but it's surprising how many people internalize others beliefs and make rash decisions based on them. But, I digress.

On this occasion, as my dear friend shares her thoughts on men and love, I sit back in my chair and reflect on my relationship, watching her brown eyes sparkle with insight as her hands wave out in front of her, expressing the intensity of her words. She leans in and says "Turks have a saying; everything that doesn't happen, is a blessing in disguise". I smile, reach for a cigarette and look out at the street in front of me. A cab is trying to weave through the cars and buses while people, with shopping in their hands, dodge all sorts of moving vehicles to get to the other side of the street. I look back at my friend and she is looking at me with a sense of certainty, confident that her words have resonated within me. She is trying so hard for me to feel better and all I can mutter out is "It will take time".

I realize that people in relationships are similar to those crossing the street in front of me. We are merely dodging heartache, loneliness and the occasional sociopath. My friend starts describing a past relationship, and unavoidably, I start comparing it to mine. But before I slip into an abyss of tears and regret, I remind myself that love is beautifully magical. Great love inspires you and nourishes you. It surprises you and sometimes shakes you to the core. We often learn from it and try to be better. When we lose it we feel like we're upside down, restrained in a water tank. With no way of getting out, we hold our breath hoping our lungs fight through the sharp pain because we can't think past the sheer panic. But love is beautiful. And we willingly dive in every time.