Usually after a walk with Miley, if I write, I come home and gush about the magic or brightness of the moon and stars; the way they shone down and dazzled me. Tonight, though, it was my heart that shone. I was just walking along and suddenly, as I turned a corner, I was floating. I have been debating whether to write about it. I was thinking about what I said about David earlier... I'm already losing it. The train of thought that lead me there.
Ah! Tonight I was wearing scarves on my head (as head scarves) because I couldn't find my hat, and I was thinking how funny it was that when I was in Turkey, when I was supposed to have a head scarf, I never did. Every single day I left it in the house or my hotel room, and thus always had to borrow the head scarves from any mosque we visited. And I thought of how wonderful Turkey* was, and how happy I was there, and how it's one of my most treasured memories. And then I was imagining a conversation between us:
Of course I love you.
But the wonderful thing is that I can just say that, mean it, and move on. Not say it and expect to get back together. Not say it and be sad that we aren't together. Say it with no strings, with no fear. Speak love with love.
Then I just floated for a few minutes, grinning at Miley and loving the cold night air, humming to myself and smiling up at Orion, my favorite constellation, whom I almost think of as a friend.
No strings; just love.
And that's all for tonight.
*Every single time I type "Turkey," I want to type it the Turkish way: Turkiye. But then I feel like I'm acting all elitist or something. That's not the word I'm looking for, but I'm not sure the word I'm looking for actually exists. But do you know what I mean. It's the same on the rare occasions that I discuss in print the Aya Sophya/Sophia. In America, it's usually referred to as the "Hagia Sophia"--but that's so ugly in comparison.