Loneliness is a strange phenomenon. You can suppress its cries for a long time, but like a weed breaking through asphalt and waving at you from the middle of the road, it occasionally appears and reminds you that no matter how much you struggle or blend in with others, you are still alone. Just a moment of weakness or a problem is enough for your family or even the closest person you thought you had to reveal your loneliness, leaving you with it alone.

In less than three days, it will be one year since I migrated. After two major failures and the initial idea of checking the situation for a month, recovering the expenses, and returning, one year has passed with me saying, “I can’t do it alone.” More than anything, it taught me how fast time flies, how futile and void the plans I made for the future are, and how limited the opportunities for truly living are. How much I’ve wasted the present for a future that neither exists nor guarantees anything.

The start of Ramadan has created an urgent need for Barbari bread in the “Pide” form (our familiar oily flatbread) and its “Ozon” version (long | regular Barbari). Honestly, it’s just like back home. Except for the corner café that became my afternoon spot after work, other places have no restrictions, so I have no problem in this regard.

In less than two months, my visa will expire, and I’m reminded again that this is not my country and I only have tourist rights. Beyond that, thoughts and worries about the potential denial of visa extension gnaw at me, consuming my moments.

Why not seek the land of my resolve, why not be on the soil of my beloved?
I cannot bear the grief of exile, so I go to my city and be its sovereign.
From the secret chambers of union I shall arise, from the servants of God, I shall be my lord.
Since the work of life is uncertain, it is better that on the day of reckoning I be present before my own self.
From the heavy hand of fate, sleep and disordered work have been restless, so I shall be a confidant of my own secrets.
My craft has always been love and wit; I shall strive no more, and focus on my own work.
Perhaps eternal grace will guide me, otherwise, I shall remain eternally embarrassed before myself.
- Hafez

Related:

- On Understanding Solitude