Date: September 2020
The light blue window is a window of hope, joy, excitement, and courage. The light blue window is also a window of disappointment, sadness, giving up, and fear. The light blue window is the window of love and hate. The light blue window represents to me the first genuine affection, the first pure attraction, the first incurable addiction. I am now 17 years, nine months, and 17 days. For the first time, I am now aware of this feeling… or should I call it a motive… or perhaps an action? I am not sure what I am really experiencing right now, but I am sure that I am excited and frightened about it. Two years ago, I was discussing with my brother about what major I should write in my CCC application, computer science, neuroscience, or both of them. It was a cold night, one of December’s or January’s (2019–2020). While we were talking on the balcony, I noticed someone talking on the phone from the light blue window. It was just a dark face appearing from a room filled with bright light blue background. It was a female. I figured from the long semi-curly hair that surrounded her head. I kept looking at her the whole night, and she also, I guess, was looking in my direction. We were looking at each other during the majority of both of our conversations (sorry, bro) until she finished her phone call and got inside. Finally, I am unhappy to break the news to you, but this girl wasn’t the one that I ended up falling in love with. However, this night played a considerable role in mapping the road.
In the following months, I kept an eye on this window and who lives on the other side. I had before this incident no interest in knowing who lives on our street, what they do, and how they do it. After it, I strangely was fascinated by most of our neighbors. Till today, looking from the balcony is one of the most time-consuming activities I do. And the reason was the light blue window. In a few weeks, I knew everything I could learn about this apartment from just watching the window and the street and asking mom a few questions between the lines (however, I am sure she knows everything). I knew that it was an apartment with a family consisting of a father, a mother, a grandfather, a grandmother, a son, and two daughters (big family, huh?). I also knew that the one I saw that night was the older daughter, which we would call Mrs. B. However, the one that I am fond of is the younger daughter, which we would call Mrs. M.
Mrs. M is the youngest family member, though she is probably older than me by two to three years. I don’t remember the first time I saw her, but I assure you that it is the same fantastic feeling every time. She is gorgeous. Every time I see her, I find her more astonishing. You could say my brain finds her the perfect match for me. She has an ideal Mediterranean face, brown long semi-curly hair, and a great slim body. Our relationship, if I could call it so, is extraordinary and unique. I have only seen her either from the window or on the street. I have never talked to her, touched her, or have been more than 50 cm near her (which happened once as I was passing her walking on the street). I only see her from my balcony or window, and the same with her. First, I was just looking at her whenever I could see her so she could notice me. Lucky me! She did. I didn’t know at first if she kinda liked it. I was afraid she would think I was a weird dude who was just stalking her. It was my first time doing something like this, taking any risk to see someone and get out of my comfort zone.
Fortunately, she was attracted to me too. She did too come out from the window as she could to see me (I suppose!). During the following months, I developed the habit of looking from the balcony whenever I could, so I could see her for a few brief moments. And it’s hard sometimes to see her for weeks, which makes me question the relationship in the first place. However, as soon as I see her, I forget all of that. The best moment is when we eye-contact each other. I feel like we are flying toward the sun, floating in outer space, where we are frozen in time and space. But, soon enough, I find my legs on the ground again.
Still, I couldn’t call what was between us a full relationship. As I said, I don’t know her at all. I don’t know what her hobbies are (if there are any). I don’t know what college she goes to. I don’t know what music she likes to listen to. I heard her voice barely for a few brief seconds, which was heartwarming; even most of those times, she was kind of frustrated about something. However, I assumed some stuff here and there. She likes Turkish coffee, which I have done since a young age. She does drink it sometimes while she is looking out her window. She is also kinda shy. Though, at first, I thought she was arrogant. When she looked at me with this stern face, I assumed that she despised me, but I realized that that was her way of dealing with unprecedented attention from someone she maybe likes. However, with time, I saw her compassionate face. I tried recently to find her social profiles, but she seemingly doesn’t exist online (or she doesn’t want people to find her, which is common in our conservative society). Thus, as you’ve concluded, I don’t know her more than any stranger I see at the market or the subway.
With all of that in mind, I still would call what between us genuine affection, pure attraction, and incurable addiction. When I look at her eyes, I do so not because of any motive other than my affection and appeal to her. I describe it as pure because we both don’t bother ourselves doing anything else but immersing in the other’s world. Nevertheless, it is also an addiction that I can’t cure easily on my own. I tried, and I couldn’t. Maybe because I can’t, perhaps because I am not seriously trying to end it. I will go and wait for her even if it comes with huge risks. Because of two reasons: firstly, we live in a conservative society, and, secondly, she has a big family. While I am waiting for her or seeing her, anyone from her family or the street could notice us. Also, she has a violent muscular brother, which won’t be easy for me if he finds something suspicious. However, most of the time, I ignore these risks unconsciously. You could say it is a symptom of an addiction.
Now, I am going back to my high school campus, which would make me, ideally, see her on weekends only. During the past two weeks, I’ve seen her the most. However, I wrote this article to remind me of those beautiful memories and to remind me that I’ve been loved once. Of course, it could be all my imagination. Heck, people sometimes interpret words as their exact opposite meanings. I won’t ever be sure unless I talk to her, which I hope to do soon. Who knows, maybe after a few weeks we would forget each other. Just like we connected as ghosts, we disappear as ghosts, too. This lengthy article is about the world that this small light blue window had created for me. Now, I’ll leave you and go look forward to meeting her without spoken words.
