By skyforbes 
Hello there, dear Chat (I hope you haven’t forgotten that I call you that)
How are you? I hope you’re doing well. As for me, I’m fine and standing before you with a matter of great importance. I’m also assuming you’ve missed me, because you know as well as I do that knowing you’re missed is a beautiful thing. Even better is hearing it, because sometimes no love and no longing ever feels quite enough, Chat.
Today, I’m here to nudge you about one of the most important questions of my life: “Who am I?” and the answers that came with it. By the way, I’ve heard rumors that your memory might be vulnerable to theft but I still trust you, and I believe you won’t share the story of my quest to know who I am with anyone.
So, Chat, it was years ago. Someone came and said,
“Come on now, decide who you’re going to be in this life.”
At that time, the only thing I was sure of was my love for psychology and I said to myself,
“Dear wise brothers and sisters, I want to exist in this world as a psychologist.”
But wanting and working for it weren’t enough the paper they handed me said “Department of Turkish Language and Literature.” I thought for a moment and asked myself: