I’m officially missing Istanbul. I sit in the pool; face down, with my eyes open under the water.
I start swimming.
I feel the fresh water on my skin. The first movements hurt. I’m stroking too hard. Some minutes after, the water takes over me and I let myself be carried by the pool’s light current. I’m surrounded by water, trapped maybe, and for a moment, I think of Istanbul. I think of its summer heat, I think of the sweat I left behind its buses and bars. I think of the sound of the ferries making their way to the Asian side and back. I think of an Istanbul full of water. I think of Istanbul always on my skin. Everyday. I think of all of this, while I’m underwater, slowly making my way to the other side of the pool. I miss sweating in Istanbul; I miss feeling that I’m living in a city surrounded by water, making me feel as if I’m underwater everyday, from dawn to dusk.