...only saying that she would remember this day till the end of her life, before beginning to cry again, and then falling silent once more.
I am reminded of a dear friend when i asked her of what she initially felt after their first time. She told me she cried. She cried for her many ambitions and dreams in life. And at that moment, I felt her, I felt a lifespan of dreams and promises that seems to elude after doing such a sacred but forbidden thing would certainly occur in one's mind. The so many what if's questions to follow. It seemed to me that i understood what had happened and inside i cried with her. I have never been so much touched with a book. And i am only just beginning to read it.
P.S. I am afraid to read what will happen next. I am so afraid to jump in and walk in their shoes. Feeling what they feel. I am not sure if i would like to be inside Pamuk's book regardless of how skillfully he weaves every word like a work of art- to evoke such emotions from me is a little bit unsettling. I am not even sure if he is a He. But i am guessing he is. I should really google the name now.
