What you could not say

Future me: if you're reading this and you still haven't called, just call. nine seconds to dial. it's been years of not doing it.

You're never gonna read this, I know. Six years now I've been keeping only the good version of you in my head. lately I realize it's the only version I got left. I want to remember the rest too, the bad parts. I don't know how.

Today was fine. That is enough.

I cancelled twice and I regret it.

I still have his number saved. Not that I'm gonna call. I just never deleted it.

Nobody has asked how I am in three weeks.

I said "you too" to the waiter.

I finished a book for the first time in two years. It was short and it was fine and I finished it.

i read my sister's diary when i was fifteen. there was nothing in it, honestly. i never told her and i still feel bad about it, years later.

I keep the news off because I cannot do anything about it and it still ruins the day. Then I feel guilty for keeping it off.

One-bedroom in Kadıköy, furnished, available from December. Old building, good light, thin walls.

Hiring a part-time bookkeeper in Istanbul, three days a week, mostly remote. Small studio, no overtime culture, honest pay.