This is an open love letter to Zeynep
Recommended song for reading: Fine Anyway by Rogér Fakhr
I have never been someone overly social. I’ve always had a limited number of friends and never wanted more. If those friends decided to leave my circle, I never chased after them. If something ended, it was over. But for the first time in a very long time, I almost ruined a deeply cherished friendship due to a lack of communication from both sides. As a result, I almost lost my best friend—someone who is perhaps the closest to my heart.
When I came to this realization, I knew I had to make an effort to bring her back into my life. Thankfully, she must have felt the same way, and with effort from both sides, we became closer than ever.
Zeynep, I love you with all my heart.
Yesterday, she showed up at my door, beaming with excitement, saying she had a gift for me. She brought me Hanukkah candles and a postcard of one of my favorite drawings: Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate a Second Before Awakening by Salvador Dalí, along with a heartfelt note.
Naturally, I asked where she managed to find Hanukkah candles in Istanbul. She started telling me the story: apparently, while studying, she realized it was Hanukkah and decided she wanted to buy me a Hanukkiah, knowing the only one I own is in Munich. So, she came up with the wonderful idea of going to the synagogue near her university to ask where she could find one.
They told her they only had candles available for 250 lira. She then asked if she could pay by card at the synagogue. Please, take a moment to visualize the comedy of this situation! They looked at her blankly and told her to come back the next day, probably assuming she wouldn’t show up again.
But one thing about Zeynep is this: she never gives up when it comes to her friends. So, the next day, she returned to the synagogue security at 9:00 a.m. sharp with 250 lira in hand to get me the candles.
When she handed them to me, she had this child-like sadness on her face, apologizing that she could only manage to get these. All I wanted to do was hug her for being so incredibly thoughtful.
Zeynep is a person of small moments, and that is perhaps one of the greatest lessons she has taught me. I should mention that she has also taught me—despite my tendency to be a know-it-all, often over-intellectualizing my experience of living—about music, friendship, movies, food, and grief… But it goes beyond that, beyond words. She has shown me how to be natural, less curated, more grounded.
She always cherishes the smallest moments. When we go to a museum, she obviously looks at and tries to understand the art, but her eye is always searching for more—something as small as someone’s funny socks, a glance people share, or the empty look in their eyes looking at the paintings. She always finds something to smile at.
All I want for her is that she never loses that love she has inside of her—that almost innocent but never naive perception. As young women, we encounter people who break our expectations and visions. Sometimes, all I want is to hold her tight and keep her safe from all the bad in the world. But, well, this is my very naive will. She is so much stronger than me in so many ways. She is strong enough to face all her feelings, the good and the bad—whereas I keep mine very neutral, almost always suppressing them. But when I am with her, I laugh until my tummy hurts, and I cry in her arms.
We also have very simple rituals that we cherish, like wearing striped pajamas—this is very specific—ordering take-out food from all possible cuisines of the world, and watching a movie from that country. Yesterday, it was South Korea. We also go for our traditional lunch at Pandeli, ordering the same thing over and over again and watching people. Yesterday’s catch was an elderly Spanish group using their phones to translate the menu in real-time, their funny glasses perched on the tips of their noses. We also occasionally read the same book at the same time, and I bully her if I finish it before her. Last week, she was invited to our house for dinner as my mother’s honorary daughter to host a gathering for our family friends. As part of our 2025 goals, we want to learn all possible etiquette for all possible occasions, so we spent almost half an hour setting the table properly.
I could go on and on.
My dearest Zeynep, thank you for being in my life. I love sharing my life with you and learning from you.
I love you.
“Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”