Probably the best Valentine’s so far…

It’s raining. It’s been raining all evening and night. I must have forgotten my umbrella at home this morning, only realised it when leaving the office and got soaked.

Went to see Climates by Nuri Bilge Ceylan. He directs and plays the main character. I’ve learnt tonight that it’s possible to love the director and hate the character. I am not going to write about the film now, you can find out about it on www.nbcfilm.com. I would have liked to talk about it but I have other priorities right now. It truly is – as some critic said – the best break up film...If you ever wondered what the best break up film was…

…Anyway, back to the film: It is very truthful. It’s like many break ups you and I have been through, and it’s not about a particularly Turkish break up either – even though the exceptionally beautiful scenery of Turkey does help make the film….

…OK, enough about the film…especially a film about break up in the eve of Valentine’s…where is my sense of humour?! …Actually, break ups are not necessarily bad things; they are the gateways to new beginnings even though we hardly realise this at the time…

Perhaps if I’d seen the film 10 days ago I would have sympathised with him. Today I kept calling him a bastard…

…what has changed in the intervening 10 days?

I spent half of them with T….T who fancied me rotten, T who was going to save me from loneliness, T who was going to protect me from whatever it is that I needed protecting from, T who proved absolutely useless in everything but the most important one: to (involuntarily) show me how wonderful my life is, right now, without him or people like him…

…”Don’t be so harsh on yourself…you are a young, beautiful and successful woman and as such you are one size too big for most men around you” he’d said in an email months ago. I’d assumed that someone who notices this (so easy to agree with flattery…) could not possibly be one of “those men”. In fact for an admittedly short while, until 10 days ago, I was certain he was worth serious consideration as “the man” for the rest of my life…not because I was in love (I full well knew I was not) but because I was tired of being alone and he seemed the caring, protective type…now I know that his care and protection come at an exuberant price.

T and I have known each other since childhood. He was the next door neighbour’s son. Five years older and trustworthy, I was allowed to go out with him even if at night – only to a cultural event, and probably not more than about five times in total... And, to be honest, that’s what had interested me most about him…when you grow up yearning to be outside after sunset, want to be with the crowds in the streets, concert halls, theatres in the dark, anyone who can take you out, give you the freedom to experience life becomes your knight in shining armour, even, as in my case, 20 years later…even if you are really using them as a gateway rather than an innocent relationship as they think.

I left that street years ago of course and so did he. Over the years something would remind him of me, he’d phone and since the spread of email we’ve been in touch more frequently. A lot more frequently in fact, until emails would become too flirtatious and we’d stop for a few weeks / months at a time. Long story short…after a couple of meetings here and in Istanbul over the last few months, he came to spend the week here…Sunday to Friday to be precise.

Judging from the promise of the previous times, I expected five days of total and utter romance in front of a backdrop of London scenery…when I told a friend that I was taking the week off, he exclaimed “it must be love”…hmmm. Deep in my guts I knew that it wasn’t. But he liked me, he was trustworthy, he was a man with presence, he was this and that…all reasons for a lonely 36 year old spinster to decide to settle down…

That was the week before last…five days of increasing despair, widening chasm between us, (undeclared) revelations on both sides…five days…a small price to pay to realise the huge mistake I was liable and about to make…

People who visit London from Turkey (or perhaps any other country from any other country, I don’t know) fall into two groups: those who absolutely adore everything and those who absolutely abhor everything. He unfortunately fell into the second group. I distinctly dislike this. I don’t go around “dissing” (excuse the slang but it’s the most appropriate word for this) Istanbul or any part of my mother country. I see all the good and the bad and I love all of it.

I first thought (as I said to him) my dislike of criticism of London stemmed from my doubt about choosing to live here. It was as if with every criticism not just London but my choice, and hence, my life was questioned. But later I realised that my dislike stems from realising that the criticism was a shield for T who was weak when taken out of his physical and metaphorical comfort zone…shield like:

Why isn’t there a sign showing the temperature outside? (why should there be? It’s either cold, warm or hot…what more do you need to know?) Why can’t two people use the same Oyster Card? (because it’s “personal” travel card”!) Why did I pay £X k for my new kitchen (because it was not possible to get it for £X-1)? Why don’t I have a car? Why am I so fat, even though I don’t have a car? Why are there naked men on stage in Cabaret at the Lyric Theatre? Why do the shows close so early? Why are the roads so narrow and buildings so old? Why don’t I have an all-round sound system in my flat? Why doesn’t the waiter in The Orangery change the cutlery between the offerings of the tea set? Why, oh, why? Oh, why don’t you just shut up and f***k off?!

He was not only annoying, but in my opinion, a racist too…am too embarrassed to talk about this. And he must have thought me stupid….just because I was threatening…showing (involuntarily) that I was perhaps better than him at what he did for a living…

Anyway enough of this! As I said five days is a small price to pay to avoid a huge mistake…but what have I really learned?

I’ve learned how interesting my life really is and how, not one but many sizes too big a woman I am for him…

I’ve learned how lucky I am to have the people (close or distant) I have in my life…people who would listen and understand me…even if not necessarily agree with what I say – people whose conversation stimulates my brain and makes me feel alive (you know who you are!)

I’ve learned that all the other guys in my life who could not give me security, even if they tried, but were interesting anyway were not total mistakes after all…

I’ve learned that I must continue to fill my life with creative pursuits and continue to love people in it and continue to train myself to love myself and approve of my choices.

I’ve learned that no matter how lonely or in need of security I may be, the search for security should not be the reason for being with someone…security like everything else comes at a price too high to pay if all that’s on offer is security…

I’ve learned that no matter how fat I may be now, after a diet I’ll be thin again but he’ll always be short [this is a reference to what Churchill said to a woman, whose name I can’t recall, when she accused him of being horribly drunk,, “yes Madam, but in the morning I’ll be sober but you’ll still be ugly”’

So…right here and right now, I pledge to myself that

I am not going to whine about being lonely.

I am going to continue to be creative and with creative people who make me happy.

I am going to lose weight.

I am going to keep up the hope that there will be someone out there with whom I can love, protect, cherish, nurture together; someone to learn from and teach to…

…and you know what, if there won’t be such a person for me, so be it…I’ll still continue to be happy… and I’ll still continue to learn to truly love myself…and that’s why this is probably the best Valentine’s I’ve had so far…