It occurred to me the other day that she speaks German and she just said it so nonchalantly, like it was the most normal thing. She didn’t have to learn it, yet she did. I want her to come to Istanbul with me, but I know she won’t. It’d be so nice, though. I’d love to be the person she can trust and be comfortable with, do stupid shit with, maybe find some tranquility with. It’d be so nice to wake up with her. We’d just spend the morning in bed, cuddle, tell funny stories, it’s be so cute and wonderful. I know it will likely never happen, yet I can’t stop myself from hoping that it did. Maybe hope really is the last frontier, the only thing left in Pandora’s the box. We can always hope for a better time. Maybe that’s what’s supposed to keep us alive. I think over the years I have lost some of that hope. It’s strange, to find it, in her.