All the characters of this book and the correspondence included in the plot are fictional.
Any resemblance to a coincidence is accidental.
30 June 2021
Emre! He was so unpredictable!
I’d been trying to persuade him to… Well…
It turned out I didn’t know him at all. For how many times did he ask me to come and see him when he just arrived at Russia? And for how many times did he refuse to meet me now, when I had finally agreed to do it? For many more times!
Tomorrow, I must set off for Saint Petersburg. “And I’ll do it,” I promised myself.
I sent the man the pictures of my train ticket to the city.
“Good luck with your job interview,” there was the answer. “You’re coming there for the interview, right?”
“Right,” I wrote. “And thank you very much, Emre! Good luck to you too!”
Such an intractable lad! Such an obstinate one!
2 July 2021
Emre! How I wanted to meet you! I still hoped you’d meet me!
These were my thoughts. I was on the train to Saint Petersburg!
But… “What if he wouldn’t meet me?” I thought. “What if everything he told me was true?”
Those were his words. “You’re nobody to me,” he wrote once. Why did he do it? Did he want to have a row with me?
Everything was too strange. Frankly speaking, I didn’t know what was going on.
My family let me go on this trip. “You’ll meet, and only then will you find out if he’s your match or not,” Mum was saying.
Well, now, I wasn’t even sure if this “match’ would meet me or not. I wasn’t sure what would happen next.
A butterfly sat on the window pane. It started rubbing its legs together. Just like any insect. But there was something special about it. What exactly? I myself couldn’t tell. Perhaps, its big yellow wings. What else…?
Perhaps, something different from the other insects, including bugs and ladybugs. I admire both butterflies and ladybugs. They’re cute.
Station after station, I got closer and closer to the city I’d been looking forward to step foot in. What would it be like? I myself didn’t know. It was a mystery. Everything needed to be experienced live.
Five hours or so passed.
I stepped out of the train. Saint Petersburg!
Saint Petersburg! I’d fallen in love with it as soon as I saw its beauty — its magnificent buildings, splendid architecture, and green vibrant gardens. I didn’t have the same feeling for Emre. It was deeper. Much deeper.
When would I come across him? Would I anyway…?
At the hotel, I typed a message to the man.
Me: Emre?
Emre: What? Don’t message me!
Me: Emre…
Emre: Shall I block you?
What? Block? Me? What for?
Me: Emre, I’m in Saint Petersburg!
Emre: So what? What do you want from me?
So what? What did he mean to say?
Me: Emre… I’ve come here for you! I’ve come here to see you!
Emre: I don’t care. Do your things and don’t bother me. Bye!
I didn’t get it. How come? What did he mean to say?
Me: Emre! Please!
No answer. “What’s the matter?” I thought. Was the man okay?
That was quite a question. What the matter really was?
Something strange was going on. Something inexplainable. Something no one (perhaps, including Emre) couldn’t interpret.
Emre: Aziza. What’re you hoping for? What’re you waiting for? I won’t meet you in Saint Petersburg. You’re not my friend anymore. Got it?
I was lost for words.
Emre: What’re you expecting, Aziza?
Me: Emre, please, let’s talk. I don’t want to lose you. I want us to be friends. Very good friends. Very close ones.
Emre: Yeah, but you forgot a simple thing. When the window’s broken, you can trust neither the window nor the people living behind it.
Me: Emre, it’s you that forgot another simple thing. We’re humans, not windows. So…
Emre: Aziza, I don’t care. I don’t want to hear anything from you. Bye!
I burst into tears.
I didn’t come to the city for my job interview. I simply wanted to see Emre.
…At the reception desk, I tried to ask the hotel workers about the landmarks of Saint Petersburg, sobbing.
“What’s the matter with you, Miss? How can we help you? Please, don’t cry!”
The lady passed me over a napkin. I took it.
“Don’t cry,” she smiled and took my hand. “What’s up with you? Just tell me!”
“No, no, thank you, I’m fine,”
