I no longer care about the bracelet, the one I bought for you as a gift, the one I insisted was for friendship.
I didn't think giving an ex-lover a bracelet would be awkward;
Looking back, I see how it might be. But I never gave it to you.
The tiny and delicate unwrapped box containing the bracelet sits at the bottom of my rucksack, and I might leave it there for months or years.
I couldn't get out of Istanbul fast enough, which was weird because it was my holiday.
It is strange how holidays as an adult are not like they were as a child.
I remember praying for good weather so my 1-hour flight wouldn't be delayed, even though I could always take a 12-hour bus ride south to Bodrum.
But 1/2 a day on a bus is a long time to think about a stranger for whom I had bought a bracelet. When my rucksack tumbled down the luggage belt,
I was slightly annoyed.
I partly wished it was gone from my life - it and the box.
As my pack flopped onto the belt, looking as worn as I was, I felt terrible for its burden.
How could one small box weigh so much?
Had it been lost, I wouldn't have filed a claim with the airline;
maybe the box would show up one day, find its way back into my life, and we would be reunited.
Or not, that too is ok.