She always stays in hotels. Sometimes, they ask her: “Why do you stay in hotels?” To some, she would say: “To write.” To others: “To be free.” She felt somehow safe there. But this time, it was different. She had come here for a purpose. To mourn him.

“Let me show you the other room.”

The hotel owner was quite cheerful. He asked for permission to help her carry her luggage. Since it was a small hotel, he the was in charge of everything. There were only five rooms in this wooden hotel. She could hear the stairs creaking as she climbed them. The hotel was in a garden. She breathed in the fresh air. She loved being on the island.

“This room has a sea view. It is large and spacious. It has a small bathroom over there.”

“I want the room with a balcony,” she said clearly.

“If that’s what you prefer… Then I won’t show you the other room. You said you’ve been here before. I don’t know you exactly, but I think you must be an old customer. I’m the new owner. Anyway, I’ve gone on too long. Let me give you the key. Everything is the same. Have a good rest.”

He said everything was the same… Was everything the same? She had spent her happiest days on the island. Fresh air and sea… It was a possibility of a new life. The island was always soft and understanding. She remembered the only person she felt at peace with was him. They had come to this island… They had spent time together here… He often told her, his eyes shining: “I will never forget these happy days.” “No one can be as happy as we are.” This reminded her of a sentence in Virginia Woolf’s suicide letter, if there was such a sentence.

They went to the room with a balcony. “If you are thinking of going to the sea…” the hotel owner said, “this might not be a good time. They’re expecting torrential rain.

She decided he was a considerate person.

“I…” she replied, “I was expecting a downpour.”

She could see the man’s surprise on his face.

“You were expecting a downpour?”

“Yes. Let it rain till the end!”

“Then you’re lucky. Tourists don’t like to hear this news. They want to go to the sea. I’ll leave you alone now. You know where I’ll be.”

He pointed to his small cottage in the hotel garden.

She went inside, put her things down and threw herself on the bed. Everything was just the way she had left it. Nothing had changed in the room. She missed him. The moment he picked a peach from the tree for her and smiled as he did so was returning to haunt her. There were a few more such pictures in her mind. He was the first man she had ever received a flower from and she remembered her photo with the flower, with a big smile… He always came home with either flowers or fruits for her. A friend of hers had once said he was handsome, and she had immediately felt jealous. Was there any need for that? They used to ride bicycles. The times they used to have bicycle races, the times they had laughed forever / for what had felt like forever. “I’ve never seen anyone this happy,” he had said to her while riding bicycle. “I’ll never forget the way you are now. Even if we part one day.”

She sat on the balcony for a while. The sounds of a new couple arriving at the hotel came from downstairs. A couple in their 30s, the same age as them. This time the hotel owner was taking care of them. He was talking about the beautiful rooms of the hotel, the facilities of the island. “Like us,” she said. “They are just like us.”

She went out on the balcony, looked around a bit, heard the sounds of the island. She sat down for a while, leaned back. She listened to the island. In the silence, life was moving as if on tiptoe. Only the birds dared to break the silence. It was so beautiful. For a moment she thought: “I could stay here forever.” The villa right next door looked like a rental. Could she live here? Where couldn’t she live? In other words, where could she live?

Freedom could be chilling when it was infinite. Freedom was nice on little holidays. When you knew it was limited. Modern man could only put up with this much, even though she seemed to crave more. They were like fish that return to their aquariums as soon as they get a little bit of ocean. She? She was a wild animal. She had a wild life and a wild story. She could live anywhere and she could live nowhere. She sometimes felt bored with the endless possibilities of the world in front of her.

But she had always dreamt of this freedom. She could do anything. Anything. Nobody called her anymore. If she disappeared, nobody would realize. Did she choose to stay away from people, or did people stay away from her? Her predatory and majestic existence, a way of life only befitting wild animals… Maybe she was a wild animal too. “Wild animals are beautiful,” she thought. “They’re marvelous.” Then she took a shower. The hot water relaxed her body wherever it travelled. The steam hit her face. It was wonderful. Hot water. As she took her towel, she thought again. This relationship was going to end anyway. Because there was no sex between them. In spite of everything, there wasn’t. Not in any way. She should have known it would be a problem. Did she know?

She started drying her hair. She had thought about leaving only in the last year of a three-year relationship. It was like they were friends. That’s what everyone said too. That they should break up… But how accurately did she remember what she remembered? How honest was she? How honest were those people who said they should break up? What would they do if they were in the same situation?

She asked herself while putting on her comfortable clothes. Should she say something to him? She hadn’t heard from him for a very long time. She just -lit a cigarette-, put on a thin cardigan, took her phone and went to the balcony. And she wrote down everything she wanted to say to him. She didn’t censor it, she didn’t reread it, she just wrote it and sent it. She wrote everything, delicately, her regret, her sadness, her feelings of guilt — she didn’t know why she felt guilty — her anger, her resentment, but mostly her sadness. She relaxed for a moment. She didn’t care what happened next.

She asked for one of the bicycles in front of the gate. “Can I take it?” The man said it was his own bike, but he was happy to give it to her anyway. “There are also bicycle hire places at the end of the road.” He thought it was urgent. In the calmness of the green trees, wide and spacious streets and avenues, it was good for her to pass with the light breeze on her face. She thought about how unhappy she had been for a while in her life. The mid-life crisis was at the door, as if that were not enough. It was best to rest. Then she would start again.

More than two hours had passed since she had written the message. Was he going to reply? She walked around in the meantime. She looked at the places they had visited together. The confectionery [shop] she loved so much was standing on the corner with its pink colored signboard. How did he speak of her when she was not there? As if she was dead? Like there was someone called Ada, now she’s gone? Like Ada was a good girl? Was he angry with her? What if the person with whom she lived in the same house, slept together, who she once saw every day, shared the most difficult days, will not even respond? What if he vents all the anger inside him? Was he angry with her? Maybe there was someone in his life. Now he was very happy and wouldn’t look back. But that would not prevent him from responding. She started to get angry. Maybe what her therapist had said was true, she’d glorified him too much. She had made a hero out of him. She needed a hero. She wanted a closure though. Just a closure. They hadn’t been able to talk enough. She hadn’t had a chance.

She was ready to go to the sea when she woke up the next morning. It was too cool for swimming. She took her bikini with her. Passing by the scent of flowers, she went down the alleys to the beach. She looked at the houses there. The houses seemed peaceful. She wondered if the people living in them were peaceful too. “Would I be happy if I lived here?” she thought. She checked her phone. There was no answer yet. Not even the next day.

Someone approached her. This man was very handsome to her. He was smiling at her.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I guess you’re waiting for a message. You’ve been staring at the phone the whole time.”

“Yes, I am.”

“So, while you’re on the island, will you spend this beautiful day waiting?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you think the best thing to do here is to wait for a message?”

Even though she was very good at chatting with people she didn’t know very well, she hesitated for a moment. He was telling the truth.

“No, of course not.”

“The sea is not as cold as you think. I’ll leave you a hot coffee before you leave the sea.”

He smiled and went back to the small cafe. Just then, the downpour started. She liked it. She inhaled the smell of iodine. She looked at the beautiful view in front of her. It was a secluded beach. She loved this hazy view. Just as she was thinking about it, a message notification popped up. She hesitated whether to open it or not. She opened it. It wasn’t him.

Suddenly she started to take off her clothes. Finally, she threw off her slippers and jumped into the water. The thunder was rumbling, and the drops were hitting her face, lips, and arms. She had never swum under the rain. It accelerated as she swam. She felt perfect in the cold water. She seemed to remember what it was like to be alive. The rain was warmer. The sea was cold.

She turned and wanted to wave to the man who had just approached her. He wasn’t there.