I am heartbroken Istanbul...

You've changed Istanbul. I don't recognize you anymore. You had this majestic, all encompassing beauty. The beat of your drum was so lively. I loved your chaotic beauty, principled hills, evergreen trees. Your people thought I was one. They considered me the same. I considered them the same. Did we sound different? Did we look different? Not even... What is this now - store signs saying I am not allowed to enter? Since when did we grow so apart that we do not recognize each other? Do you hate me so?

Istanbul, I am heartbroken. Why would you assume I am more loyal to the Israeli consulate than to the star and the crescent? And if I am a foreigner in my own city, then where is your so famed hospitality? Aren't you tired of hosting for the past 500 years? Isn't it obvious these passengers have settled? They don't have another city. They don't know another country.

I did erase my name on the doorbell Istanbul. Because I am scared that someone will find me and harm me. But I can't erase my past, Istanbul. And I can't let go Istanbul.