I was in love, but his summers were not dedicated to traveling with me. It was a hot, humid Istanbul night, and I just wanted to curl into his arms, and tell him about the most stunning mosaics and impressive crowds. About the sunsets that made everyone looked tanner and happier. And drinking coffees, buying spices. I wanted him to be happy to see all that. It was not enough that I saw it - I wanted him to experience it as well. I wished he was there with me.
And then yet another beautiful summer, I swam in a crystal-clear water somewhere in Zingaro nature reserve and dipped in deeper, discovering little colorful fish. And, I wished so much he was there with me. But we were not together anymore.
One more year, and he writes me from Siem Reap:
"It was amazing... I wish you were here!"
We are on the same page now, I guess.
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