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please...you will be of much help if you can help me translate my letter from english to turkish.i know it is quite big,but it is very important to me and if someone has the time and patience and is kind enough to help me with this translation...i will be forever gratefull...please.
here it is...
No,i didnt forgot you.You probably sometimes wonder if i did..
Even if i didnt saw you since december 2009 your image is still with me...like a tatoo on
my mind.It cannot be any other way...with our without my will its a permanent tatoo.
it was a time when your image was the most beautifull thing i could saw.But the most
important tatoo is the one i have on my heart.And its a sloppy tatoo..i made it,i tried
to erase it,then i tried to ignore it and cover it with another.Its a broken tatoo,and
unfinished.Just sketched,but with strong and deep lines,almost like carved with a chizzle.
It is old,dusty,its colors faded but the contour remained.It is there to stay probably
for a very long time,maybe even a lifetime.What does it represent?The sum of all my feelings.
Yes it may be a bit clumsy,and broken...but i made it myself,without looking...i was looking
only at you.I didnt cared if i got hurt...and even if sometimes i did,i didnt felt much pain..
i was anesthetized by the love i had for you.My preservation instinct was gone.
And i could swear i handled it so well in the begining...i started drawing a rose wich blossomed
more every day...my hand was firm drewing it,i was enthusiastic and in love...ow how nice i
drew my feelings...each line drawn,precise and gentle..each dot in the right place..it seemed
too good to be true,how could a tatoo so beautifull take shape in my heart...sometimes i was
afraid of making a mistake and ruining it...but my optimism and stuberness helped me draw further.
And so i continued...you told me you like the way it takes shape...i was so happy..so i carried
on...then you started to hesitate,it seemed like you didnt like it anymore,like it was not
what you wanted...i was confused...but...i carried on...line after line,each line deeper
and more clumsy..i started to draw it wrong...then you told me this tatoo doesnt make you happy,
that actually it never did,u dont like it and you dont want it anymore...line after line out of inertia
from my love for you i still tried,clumsy and nervous,to carry on drawing it...but it was too late.
Line after line i drew it stubbornly.But the lines were deep and wrong....but i wasnt numb
anymore..it hurt me...each wrong line i drew brought out a tear and an emptiness in my soul.
It is a broken tatoo...but made out of love.I quit drawing it anymore.It remained there
as a memory,unfinished.I dont think it hurts anymore or maybe i cant feel anymore..but the emptiness in my
soul is still there...and an ocassionally tear in my eye.
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