I spend the nights listening to music and trying to make sense of my feelings. Sometimes they are as mysterious to me as they would be to a stranger. Where does it come from?
There is a word, “yakamoz,” in Turkish. As much as I complain about how limited and unsatisfactory Turkish is to me as a language, I’ve failed to find an English term for this word. Yakamoz is the reflection of the moonlight on the sea.
I remember those moonlight filled nights. When the sun sets and the feminine flowery scent of the hot sand transforms into a masculine scent as it cools down and settles into a peaceful rest. The dark starry night welcomes a full moon that shines so brightly on the sea as if to make a path that I could follow to it.
It was impossible not to fall in love on such nights. Romance roamed in the air and took over your being as you simply breathed. It turned commonplace objects and people into butterflies that settled deep into your chest. It turned scents into ecstasy, and one became high, just by existing.
That feeling was so beautiful, that it always made me feel a combination of joy and sadness. The joy that it was happening to me, and the sadness…. I’m not sure why. Maybe I felt sad about being deprived of this emotion at other times, on other days. Maybe I felt sad because I knew it could not exist forever, it was bound to end.
Sometimes, I really admire people who are not able to love. Love is the most powerful, unreasonable emotion. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t quiet down. It rushes and flows, overtakes, paralyzes, awes. It explodes and overtakes the universe, from right there, inside your little heart. Your own little big bang.