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When we were in primary school, there was a favorite of everyone in our class: Uğur Tarlan. It was an example of perfection that even our teacher loved and cherished, mentioned in almost all the girls' diaries. His blue apron was always ironed, his collar was clean, unlike the other boys, his things were neat and his movements smooth. We all admired him. In the weekly changing seating arrangement, everyone was overflowing with the excitement of the day they would sit next to him. Even the boys had accepted his perfection and learned the fact that he was different from them. No one would bother him, tease him, or act silly and childish in front of him.

He spoke in a gentle voice. He always did his homework on time. His writing was better than ours. In the front pocket of his apron was an ironed handkerchief. A real handkerchief! He gave me his handkerchief once when I spilled my water on me. He didn't even want me to give it back. It was unforgetable!

We were all in love with him. It was a childish love filled with admiration and love rather than a true love, but Uğur had a special place in my heart even after years. It still is…

I never saw him after primary school. I haven't heard any news about him. I just remember that he moved, but no one knew when, where or why. I didn't even have the courage to ask anyone. Primary school was over and we parted ways with Uğur. There was nothing left but the ridiculous love letter I planned to give him, his cream-colored handkerchief, and innocent smile that haunted me.

Of course, over the years, Uğur has become a memory that rarely comes to mind. That's why… I never thought I'd see him again.