TE16 Turkish Delight

Our Best Love Story

question could have taken me to another dead end, forced me to hazard one of those little storms once more, whether I wished to or not. But it’s too late for that now. To be more accurate, certain experiences assure me that similar lines of questioning won’t take me anywhere. How, then, can I explain this effort, the hope that has sprung to life within me just because? Why do I think of these words, why undertake directing this hopeless tirade at you? In hopes of getting over or turning a blind eye to certain conundrums to discover a new smile for myself or a completely new, unexpected crowd? To be able to picture once more, on a rainy night, that crack in the door? To stand in front of that door, on that threshold, and hope for sudden rebirth? None of these things, to be completely honest. After all, I made up my mind many years ago that maintaining futile longings is pointless. Yet still ultimately it feels as though there are things I haven’t been able to tell you in spite of all the paroxysms, preparations, and exercises in loneliness, as though I were forever appearing before you lacking, in spite of all the lies I know. And it isn’t as if I’m unaware of the importance of shortcomings in love, in all human relationships. All said and done, however, onecan’t readilyaccept, after all of one’s lifetimes, one’s constant tardiness, especially that which manifests in a relationship, one’s timidity when cracking open a door, or empty wineglasses on a lonely evening, or believe one keeps on carrying a constantly repeating cycle of regrets from one relationship to the next. The only things left behind are the fallacies. At that point I try to derive some small joy from the burden of our relationship, causing it to remain a beginning, a possibility, an unfulfilled longing. For we both know extremely

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