Turning endings into beginnings in Lake Como

"I should have thought at least ten times before booking this ticket to Milan," I said to myself as tears were quietly running down my cheeks before Istanbul-Milan flight took off on January 22, 2016. I was traveling to a city which I would not have an intention of visiting if my best friend of 10 years, who I parted ways with exactly 3 weeks before this flight, wasn't living there. Perhaps our relationship was always on the rocks and we failed to notice this before our fall out. Why we parted ways is not the subject of this story, and it won't be the subject of any story, following the words of Epictetus, "It is not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters." So here I was with an already booked ticket to Milan, four days to spend there alone, and another already booked ticket from Milan to New York following these four days.

After 2 hours of flying and intermittent crying, I was finally at Malpensa Airport, without a friend to let know I was there. So I sat down with my iPad to make a reservation in a hostel, hoping that I would get there early in the evening without getting lost. When I arrived at the famous Duomo, a homeless Milanese guy yelled "Ciao bella,... triste..." looking right at me. Thanks to my average knowledge of French, I understood that this man thought I was sad, and this made me feel like I was the archetype of lonesome solo travelers for a minute. I grabbed a slice of pizza and a bottle of Peroni somewhere near Duomo, then eventually found my way to a nice B&B, which I perceived as a small treat to mend my broken heart. The next day, I decided that I didn't need nice B&Bs to mend my heart. I realized that the tears on the plane weren't sad tears. They were just tears. I am too much of a hopeful person and an eternal fighter to let the sadness grind me down. So I moved to a hostel where I would stay for the next two days.

When I arrived at the hostel, I had a small Skype conversation with the best person to have this conversation with, my little angel Farah. As an avid traveller, she moved that ball of sheer positivity towards me and found a free walking tour of Milan on Couch Surf, organized by a very kindhearted Milanese native, Reiki student Matteo. Thanks to Matteo, I got acquainted with other natives of Milan in a matter of one day.

The next day, a new person came to the same hostel room I was staying. He seemed quite reserved, and laid in his bed as soon as placing his belongings in his locker. Since I woke up that morning, I was contemplating whether to watch the Inter game in one of the legendary stadiums of football world, San Siro. He seemed like the type of person who would be interested in football, so I asked whether he wanted to come with me. Surprising me with his adventurousness and spontaneity —which are important qualities I cherish in people—he jumped out of his bed and dressed to join me to the game. Even though we arrived at the stadium after the game started and could not buy tickets, we still made the best of the situation and went to a nearby bar to watch the game with a group of policemen on duty for the game. After getting to know each other at the bar, and hitting it off well, we planned to head to the famous shores of Italy's Lake Como for another adventure the next day.

He was a Brazilian boy doing a Euro Trip after spending six months in a language school in England, and I was a Turkish girl traveling to New York with a dreaded stop over in Milan in her semester break. Even though João and I had known each other for only a day, we were comfortable in our interactions as if we had known each other for much longer. When we arrived at Lake Como, we boarded a small boat, looked out at the lake, conversed, looked out at the lake, kissed, looked out at the lake, took the funicular to the top of a mountain, looked out at the lake, hiked up the hillside for a panoramic view, looked out at the lake, kissed again, and it was just so tranquil. He was great to hold hands with. He was great to share a silence with. In my head I thought, everything happened for a reason.

It takes people a very long time to maintain a comfortable silence without worrying about what they are thinking. I realized that with my once a best friend of 10 years we could not share comfortable silences. Maybe our relationship did not stand the test of time because of that. My silent yet comfortable times with this adventurous guy, whose name I will never be able to pronounce properly, made me realize that it was not bad after all that I parted ways with this old friend. It would have been too easy to have stayed in Istanbul, postponed my ticket to Milan to a day before my flight to New York, watched an episode of Friends, ate a meal that I would order in, and be mad at her. Every breath I took on the banks of Lake Como, I have felt a little more at ease with my new friend, with letting my old friend go for good, and allowing myself to be open to every part of this experience.

My fondest memory of that day is going to Matteo's house for dinner that night with João  after coming back from Lake Como. João and I felt like local Milanese people with a bottle of wine in our hand as we took the train to Matteo's house. We enjoyed our wine, feasted on home-cooked pasta with pesto, and shared many laughs at Matteo's house.  At the end of the night, I left Milan for catching my flight to New York, and João left the day after me for Lyon.