It’s some crazy shite. I’ve been back from Turkey since last Thursday. But I still feel empty and emotionless. I have been putting on my happy face since I’ve been back. Cause that is what everybody expects from me: just a happy, silly and crazy person.
But I’m not that person.
When on monday I went back to my aunts house my nieces were already getting ready for the funeral.The next 3 days I did everything on automatic pilot. I went to distribute invitations for the funeral, went to fooking Emirdag (the town I swore I would never go to ever again), bought a gravestone, went to a mosk and prayed, went to a funeral, got judged by family all the time. I did everything in memory of my aunt, but all I ever wanted to do was to take my bags and run, run away, as far as I could.
That sundaynight I felt happiness, a feeling I haven’t felt for a long time, but it was all gone just a few hours later.
Although it feels very emo to say, but it feels like I will never be destined to have a happy life.
It’s even stupid to feel this way, cause if I hadn’t gone to Turkey, I would care so much less. But those few hours with my aunt made me feel truely and honestly loved and cared for. Now… there’s nothing more than loads of work…
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