An Ode to My Aviator Sunglasses

An ode to my sunglasses

There is something about my golden aviator sunglasses that is more than sun protection, more than anybody else can ever imagine. Every time I put them on I instantly become happier. A lot of women around the world have the same pair, as they were mass-produced by the brand Guess, and so mine isn’t unique at all in that sense. Neither is my happiness triggered by a materialistic satisfaction by wearing a “brand”. I received them from a special person, when I was ready to draw mental punctuation mark in my life. Those punctuation marks in life, often called phases, more often misused – the reason I call them punctuation marks. You drew them on the day you lost something or someone special, the day you realized that your parents were human, the day you got your first paycheck, and so on. You will draw your full stop when you have reached your end. When I put on my sunglasses, my eyes are immediately drenched in a creamy vision, the world as I know it becomes beige. Everyone feels a sense of detachment when they wear their sunglasses, you feel like you could spy on people without them noticing, or you could camouflage a burse, your red shoot eyes, or to simply help you from yielding to your terrible hangover. But my sunglasses are special to me, because when I put them on, I feel detached from all the sadness of the world. When the world is dipped in that smooth beige, time is no longer a burden that drags me down. A year ago I found myself on a beach in Istanbul, a city I am used to going when I need to escape from something or someone - people were chatting, laughing, with the energy and the heat I felt like I could hardly breath. When I was sitting by the beach thinking about all that I have left behind in Vienna, that five excruciatingly long years of marriage, I was suddenly awakened by a woman’s voice. This tanned woman about the same age as me offered me a beer, when I took the beer I noticed her