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.