It was the time when September rains and coolness were felt. I said to myself, “Give him a hello. Just say hi. It might work, it's simple; but a warm greeting can come in handy.”
He greeted the first greeting with surprise and embarrassment, smiling a little, days later he was more fearless and sincere in my second greeting, more sincere in my third greeting in a week. Three days later, on my fourth salute, he had lowered his security shields and fears like sails, and I had toast in my hand, and I set up fearlessly beside the bank. I bought the toast from the canteen so I could contact him. It was all tricks, tactics, he had no idea.
"Can we meet?" I said.
"Sure," he said sincerely.
We couldn't go beyond a few words that day. We listened to outside voices. We were arrested. I couldn't open either.
Then, as we got to know each other, friendship started to develop between us. The reason for his lone stance was that there was no one he could get along with in the classroom or school. One day, I sat next to him on the bench, it was lunch break, and I realized that he was afraid to open whatever was in his bag with me. It was obvious that he was struggling, that something was gnawing at him. He finally opened the bag. He was as careful as doing heart surgery. He took out three boiled potatoes, a handful of olives, cottage cheese, and cornbread. He insisted that I eat, so after I ate a little for her sake, I went to the canteen and bought him a box of milk. I sat next to him, and after a little chat, I left.
"Don't go, please, stay and let's chat, what's wrong?" said.
That charming calm tone of voice.
“I have an urgent business, I will come.”
I was touched by his sincerity, his benevolent heart, and I felt the presence of such a thing in him very strongly. It broke out suddenly: I was sad like a child.
In order not to cry next to him, I left him by lying.
I fell in love with his poorness, his pure heart, but I never told him, I looked like a friend to him. How can I say, it wasn't necessary. It was inside me. Keep it that way, it has such a meaning, it will not be stylish if I reveal it, our certain connection will hurt, what I say will not be pleasant.
I have never forgotten that day, since that day my view of boiled potatoes, cottage cheese and cornbread has changed a lot. A love for them developed inside me, while I was eating them, I was seeing her, those warm feelings, I was living that day again, those moments.
When my mother boiled potatoes, she said, "What is this, food?" I stopped making harsh statements, boiled potatoes, olives, cornbread were magic foods for me.
This was the first time they had been alone with him. I did not know his inner world; But I sensed that she wasn't like the other girls. I had no doubt that there was a lot of good stuff in it.
Even with the food he ate, he was interesting, ordinary; but it seemed extraordinary to me that no girl at school would count what she ate as a meal.
Deep thoughts about him and life were swirling in my head. I should have known him, what he was like, and I would help him until he died, I would be by his side. Boys fall in love with girls' physiques first, I was such an idiot; but Seher attracted me with her inner world, her energy, her reactions and her words, her naivety, the poor girl impression she evoked in me.
I wished I had a lifelong friendship or a connection with Seher. I would love to know where he has come from in life and to hear his news. I wanted to be friends with him forever. I would die for this girl if I had to.
I didn't know why; but that's how I felt. “What is a lover, we would be lovers today, with bloody knives tomorrow. It's best not to get into these things at all, it kills all good things," I said to myself, "whatever happens with time." But my heart always wanted to hug this girl, tight. It was a strong feeling, a thought, that I couldn't resist, it was crushing me.
Our conversations began to increase and lengthen. His bright inner world was at a very high level, he had a very good and solid heart. His head for evil was not working at all. I understood from the things he told me to be so good, he perceived everything like a baby. He was telling me everything. It was very simple, ordinary; but it felt like an undiscovered planet that I had just discovered. What a beautiful and good person he was, I was amazed how such a person could exist. I didn't get tired of thinking about her and didn't give up on it.
I told myself that if I got married, I would marry this.
I never had a sublime non-negotiable relationship with any girl. I have never had such contact with any girl.
I had no heartfelt relationship, no close or distant contact with any girl. They were afraid of me, and I of them. I was already dumb like every man. Their physical charms would blind me and captivate my heart. But I knew that they would never be good to me, that they would never understand me. I couldn't give up on them, then I was angry with myself for being in pain, for chasing them. However, it was something else for me. I guess it was because I had a heartfelt relationship with him. He would never hurt me, he could not, he was my friend. I valued him without ego. Unconditionally. It didn't have to be mine. For some reason, his name was comforting to me, whatever, what kind of secret, what kind of energy there is in this name. I realized that it was very good for me and developed me as I shared and chatted, or sat quietly next to each other, immersed in something, or when I was thinking about something he said over and over in my head.
He opened my mind with his thoughts, his energy, his pure gaze. He would talk to me about the pain he suffered, all kinds of problems, he would talk about everything, even on the days when he had his period, he would tell me about the pain he suffered. He would always tell me about his problems with his family and friends at school. But what they say seemed very original to me is their perspective on life. She was far from the hot and cold girls. She had a lot of very good qualities that most girls don't have. I really liked that she didn't care about men and that she didn't care about them but put walls between them and trusted me alone. She would talk about the young men she loved platonically. He had girlfriends, and he talked about them too. He had an immaculate, untouched, unassuming demeanor, caring about eternity, sublime, and self-absorbed. The things that fascinated other girls couldn't slap Seher or smash her like a truck, she had a wall, cheap, dirty, filthy things crashed into that wall and crumbled, She couldn't be enslaved to filthy things. I fell in love with his lofty, noble attitude, how could it be like this? How was this human, no, he was not human, he was a superhuman being.
I soon realized what made me happy in him, it was his spiritual light reflecting from his eyes and his words. Some call it "light", yes, it was intense with this girl, I felt great when her eyes were on me. A religious friend of mine once told me at length about the thing called "light" during a conversation. At that moment, it automatically came to my mind. “Here is what he was talking about,” I said to myself.
I've grown and changed over time - Poetry
The intricate issue, from epileptic delusional urges to chalk cleansing,
Where there is, pandemic winds are hidden.
It could be considered a revolution in cutting hair short in medium-sized towns,
We didn't even know the word meaning of revolution, we didn't need it.
From the minaret of our neighborhood, five times a day, the wolf was read, and the room was enough for us.
My dream sweater was partly due to my familiarity with the pain left by the snow burn inside me.
Then the snow blower came and the innocence of everything was soiled, even white.
I've grown and changed over time, now I'm against everything I've ever dreamed of
I seem to have undergone a genetic evolution of the soul, and moreover, the ropes of my dream swing were broken.
I think it's nice to be loved, especially in a vulgar way.
My plaything, my toy broken
Then I collected rains that looked like myself, at the bottom of a cistern,
La space, I hid inside myself like a madman.
