A broken heart is such a minimalistic term, I thought. It should be called a broken body. My entire being was submerged in pain and I had no idea how to resurface. Silent tears streamed nonstop, I didn't even have the energy to cry in earnest.
This morning I woke up with a heart bursting with love and hope. Can's scent was still on my pillows, the threat of losing him forever made me frantic and I decided to take the leap, live my life on my own terms and grab this incredible unexpected love with both hands. I rushed to his side dreaming of ending the day in his arms, seeing his dazzling smile when I surrendered my heart to him. And now I was in mourning, cold, alone and stunned into immobility.
You're the last woman I'd ever consider marrying
Those words would haunt me until the day I died.
I don't know how I got back to the house or how I ended up in bed with Ayhan worriedly wiping my tears. I clutched the scarf in my hand.
"Sanemsie, please tell me what's wrong. If you don't I'll call you to know who and you don't want that. Do you?"
I didn't care. I found it hard to care about anything right now.
Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep and dreamt of a dazzling dimpled smile, of lips trailing softly over my face, melting brown eyes and a low raspy voice whispering in my ear, I don't love you. Why don't you understand?
I woke up with a start. I felt my lungs seize up and the panic started to crawl slowly over me. Ayhan was snoring softly next to me. I ran into the bathroom so as not to wake her but it was too late, her terrified face appeared in my wavering vision. She got up to call for help but I shook my head wildly.
Focus on me
I heard his voice and saw his concerned face in my mind. I closed my eyes and remembered breathing with him, his strong arms holding me protectively.
When I emerged from the worst of it, Ayhan watched me with fearful eyes.
"Please tell me what is happening?"
"I'm okay," I tried a wobbly smile and she gave me a skeptical look.
"Do you think I'm turning into our mother?" I asked her while she wiped my face with a cool cloth.
"You have a heart. You could never turn into her. What is going on with you? I've never seen you like this."
"I fell in love."
She looked at me doubtfully, "I've never been in love before but if it's going to make me look like a zombie, no offense, I want no part of it...Oh my God!" She exclaimed, "it's Mr. Tall, Buff, and Handsome, isn't it?"
"Who?" I asked momentarily startled out of my grief.
"A sound woke me up early and I looked out of the window to investigate, and there was this gorgeous man swinging off your window like a fully dressed Tarzan. I thought maybe I was still asleep but then he dropped down to the ground, saw me and winked at me. Winked!" She put her hand over the heart and pretended to swoon, "and it took me like ten minutes to recover. I don't think I have recovered, actually. I ran up here to check on you but you were sleeping. So I figured you had been a bad girl," she wiggled her eyebrows up and down, "So now you have to tell me everything! But first, he didn't hurt you, did he? Because I will hunt him down and throat punch him. I don't care how pretty he is."
"I hurt him. So much. Over and over again," and a sob ripped from my chest.
I sat on the floor of the bathroom and sobbed out most of the story to my little sister.
"Did you mean those things you said to him? Do you think he's beneath you?"
"No! No... and now he thinks I do. He's the most incredible, remarkable person I've ever met. I don't know why I said those things" I pressed the scarf to my face. There was a hint of his scent and mine combined and it ripped my heart open all over again.
"Why do you have to choose, Sanem? Why can't you have it all? The feminist in me doesn't want you to give up your dream but that dream is being held hostage right now by a very wicked witch. So you have to decide what's more important to you. I see you right now and I can tell what's more important but you have to make that decision for yourself."
She put her arms around me.
"When did you get so wise?" I asked her.
"You mean awesome. And I've always been awesome."
A few days later, Ayhan went back to school and I gathered what was left of my heart and went back home to start again.
****
I drifted through life like a ghost. Days turned into weeks and I spent those unending days haunted by memories of him, of his scent, his rough whispers when he was in the grips of passion, his heated kisses, the way he tried to restrain himself when he was aroused but couldn't help touching me. Most of all I was haunted by the dawning realization that he was right, I was turning into my mother. Nothing terrified me more than that.My position in life is such that a marriage between us would be seen by some as diminishing.
I sounded like the worst, most despicable sort of snob. I replayed the words in my head over and over and I wanted to die.
I tortured myself by reliving every word, every look, every nightmarish moment was tattooed in my mind's eye. The thought that he was existing somewhere in the world thinking badly of me made my heart break all over again. Everything in me was thrown into upheaval. Who was I? Turned out I had no clue. I'd spent so many years molding myself into my mother's perfect daughter that I lost myself somewhere along the line. The only time I felt genuine was in Can's arms. But I couldn't think of him without spiraling into self-loathing. I had never felt so alone. I spent my free time writing furiously afraid that if I didn't get every single moment down on paper, it would vanish just like he did. I became determined to recover my old self, whoever I had been before I turned into an imposter so I began going to therapy where I learned about setting boundaries. My mother ran roughshod over me because I had none.
I avoided my mother more than usual, I couldn't see her, not while I was so weak. Mother scented weakness like a shark scented blood. But eventually, I couldn't avoid her any longer and I had to make an appearance at one of her interminable dinner parties. "You look terrible," she said without preamble when I took my seat.
"Hello to you, too," I said too weary to watch my words.
"We need to talk soon. It is past time to start planning an engagement party. We've waited long enough, people are starting to talk and Yiğit is getting impatient."
My stomach turned and my lungs seized. I wasn't afraid of her, but I had an almost pathological fear of disappointing her. And she knew it, I knew now that she used that fear to keep me docile. A searing rage burned through me at the thought of all I had sacrificed for her love and acceptance. Which I now realized I would never get no matter what I did. I let my bitterness and anger course through me and said quietly,
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"No," I said louder this time. And it felt so damn good I said it again, "No."
"I won't marry him. I don't love him."