Dear beloved readers,

I am currently sitting at my college’s Starbucks, breaking my main rule and wearing head to toe black. And I am only here, instead of the comfort of my shoebox apartment, because I was terrified I would start to cry while writing this one and I have this terrible fear of public crying so I figured it would be a good idea to come somewhere there I feel comfortable enough to write, but at the same time a place where I get too uncomfortable to cry.

For you guys to understand this one I will have to, first of all clarify my last week’s post. So…As you all know I spent part of my summer break in New York, living my best life, exploring the city I want to live someday and meeting some amazing people. And as you also know, the first thing I did as soon as I landed was download Tinder because well, a girl’s gotta eat, but mainly because I was looking for a summer love.

Little did I know that my summer love would show up after two very failed Tinder attempts. So, on a Tuesday night, after a very depressing day I decided to do what I never do, drown my sorrows in trashy food. I am usually the cigarettes kinda gal, but I just needed something to hate myself for doing so a little later, and since I can’t get mad at myself anymore for smoking, I decided to go to the Mc Donald’s in front of my hotel.

I ordered my food and went to wait in the table they leave for the people who ordered to go, I guess…As soon as I approach the table, I notice a guy, very much my type and very much alone. I don’t dare to talk to him or even do anything but look briefly, this is New York after all, and it is after 11pm, and it doesn’t matter how old I get, I can always hear my mom’s voice echoing in my head whenever I even think about doing something that could possibly kill me, even if said thing would be talking to strangers. Also, I wasn’t in the mood, if I am being completely honest, first of all I was looking like a mess, literally didn’t even bother to put a bra on or anything, and I was hella moody therefore, the bitch resting face was on, but that didn’t stop me from sitting in front of said stranger.

But sometimes fate, or God, or the universe or whatever you want to call it, decides to play with you a little bit. And in this case, they sent me Ray. Ray was a very drunk man inside Mc Donald’s who claimed to be a magician and who needed two volunteers for his trick. And as moody as I was I couldn’t help but smile since this was a hella New York thing to happen in the middle of the night inside of a Mc Donald’s in Midtown Manhattan. And as I am who I am, I said I wouldn’t mind help the magician, and with that, the guy in front of me, said stranger with the cutest curly hair, also agreed to join the trick. Of course Ray was way too drunk to do anything, even hold his deck of cards properly, so it’s safe to say that when he dropped it for the first time, the stranger and I just exchanged looks and laughed at each other and I know it sounds stupid, but I felt a sparkle deep down inside me and fuck this is gonna make me cry at Starbucks. Deep breaths. Sigh. Anyways…Ray dropped his cards another couple of times and by the time he succeeded with the trick, both my order and the stranger’s was in our hands and we had to head outside so we could, you know, leave. Of course, Ray followed us outside, inviting us to his magic show in Washington Square Park that Friday and as the conversation was never ending, the stranger did the only thing that would make his way to my hear easier: He grabbed a pack of cigarettes.

Of course I asked for one and when he asked if I lived nearby, I pointed at my hotel and much to my surprise he said “Me too!”. Now, beloved readers, you may be wondering how the hell this happened to me. And trust me, after I invited him back inside Mc Donald’s so we could eat together and we talked all night, I couldn’t quite believe it either. After that we would text pretty much day and night and always meet up in the morning for a coffee and a cigarette and he even gave me a pack and that made me simply crazy about him. We went on dates, he waited in line with me for nearly two hours to get Dear Evan Hansen tickets and even held me close when the show made me too depressed I couldn’t stop crying. We went on a Broadway date and if you know me, you know that screams goals to me, and we just you know, explored Manhattan at late nights and kissed near the Empire State and fell in love in each and every corner of the city.

As the final day got closer, I had something inside me screaming and my need for cigarettes grew stronger and stronger and I just knew, deep down in my bones that I was in big, big trouble. So I did what I had to do, I called my best friend who first of all, screamed to me in that good old way that only Tony can do without making me burst into tears, and I told her everything, and she wasn’t pleased. She told me something that I didn’t quite know back then, but am sure as hell now, and that thing is, I am not that racional when making decisions. So she said to get my heart outta my sleeve and get my shit together because she didn’t want me hurt. We had a whole argument inside Forever 21 and I left that store with tears in my eyes and only two items in my shopping bag and that’s unusual for me. And since this was one of my last days, I was determined to spend all my money and that was meant to be my shopping day, and if being mad at my best friend wasn’t enough, the stranger and I were texting back and forth about everything I discussed with my best friend, and even though we weren’t getting in any agreement, something happened. And of course the universe had to mock me like that yet again, and as I am walking through 5th Avenue, right in front of Tiffany’s to be more specific, the stranger texts “And you know what? I love you” I know what you are thinking, this is insane, you knew him for like two weeks tops and love doesn’t works like that. And beloved readers, trust me, I know all of that, but at that moment, curiously in front of Tiffany’s of all places and with hours left in the city that never sleeps, I saw a big door opening in front of me, the kind that only shows up once in a lifetime and I needed to make a decision, I needed to enter the damn door because I needed to take a risk and see what was like to be in love. It was the first time anyone said they loved me like that and holy hell if it didn’t feel amazing, and right and everything it is meant to feel like.

So later that night, in his hotel room, while we avoided the ticking clock next to us and my flight got closer and closer, we decided we would stay together and we would make this work. Because he didn’t want to let me go and I sure as hell didn’t want him to let me go. And I remember thinking crap, how unlucky am I that my first ever relationship, the first ever guy who actually loves me, lives so far away? but of course I also thought well, but if the universe, or God, or whatever you want to call it is sending me this now, it’s because they know I can make it work, I’ve always loved big challenges and if there’s anyone who can make this work, this one is me!

Here’s the thing though beloved readers, as widely romantic as all of this sounds, when not one, but two of your best friends warn you that you may be making a huge, outrageous mistake, you listen to them. Not because they are always right, which both of mine happen to always be, but because your best friends don’t give a fuck about the guy you are with, they care only about you and they know you better than any guy you met two weeks ago. So when my other best friend who happens to live in the city, met up with me for our last night together and I told her everything, she said I was out of my mind. But since you all know me by know, you all know I didn’t listen and I chose to open that damn door and enter, not one foot at the time, but just throw my whole ass body in there.

And honestly, I did my best. Of course that as soon as my plane took off, I was a crying mess and I felt more than ever that I was leaving part of me behind. But I was confident about the stranger and I because we were in love and nothing can go wrong when you are in love. Except, everything can.

We would text everyday, FaceTime everyday and even though I had a hard time adjusting to the time difference and the lack of physical contact, after the first two weeks, I knew we would make this work because our love went beyond any challenge the universe could throw at us. And so our one month anniversary came and I was as blown away as any of you because wow if we made it work for one month, the rest is gonna be a piece of cake and we’ve got this in the bag. And while I waited for my anniversary FaceTime call or text or anything, what I got, I surely wasn’t expecting.

“We have to break up. I am sorry”

I don’t want to get into this whole part, maybe next week, maybe later, and besides this post is already ridiculously long and I am getting way too emotional for my liking in this public place. But if you are wondering if I got a reason, an explanation or anything else, you are terribly mistaken. One would think that after a month together, said stranger would have some consideration and be a little kinder about the situation, but at the end of the day, we only know three things in this life: That you can never go wrong with a little black dress, that diamonds go with everything and that all men are the same. 

If you read through this whole thing and you are worried about me, please don’t. I did what I had to do, I cried my eyes out and I allowed myself to feel in my bones what it was like to lose someone you loved. I am still trying to figure out what I am gonna do with all the love I still feel for him and still wondering where he shoved his love because the day before I got that infamous text, I was praised and drenched in so much love I couldn’t even believe it was real, that one could love me, with all my flaws and my broken parts, that much. But if there’s one thing I learned in this life is that I am stronger than I give myself credit for and if I got through my bad days, my mean reds, I can get through a break up in which the person apparently thought so little they didn’t even bother explaining me why they left me. 

Until next week, I promise I will be even better than I already feel right now. Sometimes I forget how therapeutic writing things here can be. I also promise I will be getting into a little trouble this weekend, mainly because I really need alcohol, mostly because I am only human and I gotta suffer some way and at least alcohol makes me numb…And in case you do get in trouble too, well, you already know  what to do.

– Your Girl on the Go