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Dear Dad,

It’s been a while since our last contact. Weird how time flies and things go their way without even having the feeling we can control it.

The kids are growing up so fast. Michael just started school and it’s weird to be you now: preparing his lunchbox, having breakfast together (he loves his Flapjacks so that must be hereditary), doing the minty breath-check you always did on me after breakfast, bringing him to school and picking him up. He likes his school a lot and has made lots of friends in the first few days so I think he’s happy. Little Patrick is still at home with me and I have so much fun just watching him sleep, crawl or drool. Susan has a hard time at work so she’s sometimes pretty cranky when she gets home. I see she’s trying to be nice to the kids, but she’s so stressed the kids are scared of her at times. I hope I’ll find a job so she can work less and be more around the house. I think it will be best for everyone.

Michael has been asking us where his gramps is. I haven’t told them yet what has happened. They are still too young for that and Susan doesn’t want to raise the kids thinking it’s acceptable what you did. Don’t worry, she also thinks we shouldn’t tell them anything about sex or drugs until they’re eighteen.

I really miss you dad! I’m so scared to visit you. I know it has been already over two months, but I don’t want to see you in the situation that you’re in. I hope you don’t think I’m selfish, because trust me, you’re on my mind all the time. It’s hard for me to be without a dad. I miss our talks, your hands and your ugly feet in your leather sandals. But I miss mom as well. Sometimes when I sleep I see her face in front of me. With her lovely smile and those loving eyes. But I feel like everything is fading away. I don’t even know what her voice sounds like anymore. I have no idea. I used to hear her voice occasionally, but now she doesn’t talk anymore when I think of her. We just look at each other. It’s weird that we all shared a life together and now we’re all ripped apart. I wish all of this had never happened.

Susan is still angry with you. It was my mother and it was your wife. I think she should respect my opinion, but you know how stubborn she can be. She can’t understand the situation you were in and the pain you and mother were going through. I wonder what she would do if it would happen to her parents. I don’t visit them anymore because they were calling you murderer in front of the kids. Susan goes there alone now and every time she comes back she sounds more like them. If it gets worse I might have to reconsider my marriage with her, because I’ve started to lose my patience.

Sorry for writing so much about me. I know it must be really hard for you. You’re there while we are out here. Not only did you lose us, but also your wife and your freedom. Just know that there are people thinking of you and you’re not alone in this! We’ve got tons of mail from people across the whole country after the media got hold of your story. I kept most of it so you can read it when you get out. Some reporters from a national TV station even came by to interview me at mom’s grave. There are so many flowers there. You wouldn’t believe your eyes. I’m telling you dad, you are an inspiration to so many people. I’m proud of you! Of course there are people disagreeing, but I’ve stopped listening to them. They wouldn’t be people you would want be associated with anyways. And most of them never experienced what you went through so I don’t think they have the right to judge you.

I’ve met with your attorney again and she thinks there is a big chance that you’ll get out in two years for good behavior. She’s doing anything she can. Hope to hear from you soon. Hang in there, Dad!

Love,

Your Son

“I don’t want to rush”
“Well, I don’t want to wait!”

I should have known nothing good would come out of this. She’s one of those honkers in traffic. Impatient for no reason. Rude to people she doesn’t know, because she’s so used to getting whatever her empty heart desires.

“Are you a gigolo? You can get really rich with this”. Was that the reason I stayed with her? Her sleazy and untrue comments that somehow were able to flatter me. The strength I had is gone. She sucked it out. It wasn’t just that day when she told me ‘cum to my mouth’, but it was every day with her.

The constant whining: ‘What’s love without fighting?’ she asked me. I’m too smart to waste my life’s time on arguing about nothing. So ashamed of another person. Like I felt about my father when he used to pick me up from school when I was a kid. Hoping nobody would see me with him. I’m so tired I can’t even smile anymore.

I’m glad she never tried to lock me up like she said she would so she wouldn’t have to share me. Man, look at me now! I’m free, but feel imprisoned. My creative mind is caught in a never-ending looping. She makes me so tired. I’m too young and too old for this shit. I don’t like compromises that make me sad. It simply isn’t worth it. I’m not looking for sex. I can masturbate. All I want is to live my life and share some of the moments with a loved one.

But it’s done. She’s gone. I’m alone again. My love for life will come back. And next time I won’t make the same mistake. This is my life. Deal with the bad things, enjoy the rest and love it all!

Liebe Attila,

I just watched ‘Mein Vater, Der Turke‘ at the Istanbul Film Festival and I absolutely loved it and I want to thank you for that. Without boring you with my life story too much, I just want to say that as a Turkish boy born in Amsterdam and with my father passing away when I was just three, you gave me documentation of how my meeting with him could have gone. The village, the sisters, feeling like a stranger/foreigner at the beginning amongst your family and still, if I’m not mistaking, the love you immediately feel for these people you’ve never seen before.

And for me, it was not only about the search of a son, but also about the Turkish people that migrated to the cities and now see a village that resembles the one they grew up in on the big screen. The scenes of the school that brought up memories to the elder lady next to me showed me how important it is for these new ‘Istanbulites’ that movies about their past are made.

I thank you again, for pieces of personal art like this make movies worth watching.

Große Gruße,

A moved soul, Ferdi Balmumcu

Wasn’t it Christian Nestell Bovee who said, “Honesty is not only the first step toward greatness, it is greatness itself”? Although I just found this quote on Google, I have to say I agree with this bloke. People respect you being honest, because you show them you have no secrets. You are what you are. And people like certainty. They like knowing that things are how they are.
For example in a relationship, what would my girlfriend’s love be worth to me if I found out that she was cheating on me for three years? Nothing, because I would feel I have lived a lie. But, what if I wouldn’t find out?? Hah, well then I wouldn’t get mad of course, but if I was my girlfriend I would feel really bad carrying such a lie with me. And I probably couldn’t carry that lie with me for so long.  But since she doesn’t think that way, she would have a lot of dick time!!
I know I need honesty from my friends and people around me. But would I like it if my mom’s new boyfriend was totally honest? I could imagine how a conversation would go:

Boyfriend: Hey man! What’s up?
Me: Nothing, just chillin’, having a tea. And you?
Boyfriend: Good man. I had a terrific night. You don’t know half how lucky you are with a mom like yours.
Me: Why?
Boyfriend: Man, she is off the hook. In bed she turns into this crazy Kama Sutra chick and has like six orgasms in a row. Or maybe it is one really long orgasm. But anyway, it’s crazy hot!!
Me: ….

Hmmm, imagining your own mother in positions like this (and pulling off stuff I must say I have to give her respect for) makes me suddenly rethink my opinion on honesty. So honesty is very nice, but it’s not above all. Honesty doesn’t mean having to share everything that’s on your mind with each other. Some things are unnecessary. Some thoughts are just thoughts that pass. Like fantasizing about your girlfriend’s best friend, while sitting on the couch next to your girlfriend. Telling other people these thoughts won’t always be the right thing to do.

But then, how do you decide when to be honest and when to omit or “forget to tell” certain things. I think that’s very personal. You have to look at every situation differently. Are you protecting yourself or the other? Of course there are no golden rules, but I still believe honesty will get you further in life. Imagine this: If we would all be more honest, people would be less suspicious, which would in turn result in more relaxed people, which of course would result in more love, which would result in random acts of sex. And isn’t that what we all want in the end?

Well, I wish I wrote this piece before, because telling my best friend that I was jerking off thinking of his girlfriend for over a year now, wasn’t really the best thing I could do for our friendship….