Imagine the following: you are greatly in love with a young woman who is 20 years old (you are 23). You love each other to death and know that the only thing you want to do with the rest of your life… is to spend it together. Imagine that you both believe that the two of you were made for each other.
Imagine that the girl is Turkish and you are Dutch. Imagine that the love you feel for each other makes it possible to have a relationship while the two of you live thousands kilometers away from each other – and you can only visit each other a couple of times, a couple of weeks, per year. Imagine that, although it is difficult, extremely difficult and that, although your heart is broken every time you say goodbye to each other, you can overcome all the pain in the world because your love for each other is so big.
Imagine that.
Now imagine that, one night, on Tuesday August 7, 2007, the two of you go to a place in İstanbul called Ortaköy (also see image above to see what it looks like by daylight). You are the Dutch young man. You have something in your pocket: a small, very small, box. The two of you go to Ortaköy walking hand in hand. You kiss the girl you love on her forehead and on her cheek. You look her in her eyes and tell her how much you love her and how happy she makes you.
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