Dear beloved readers,

My mom would likely tell you guys I am a woman with little to no faith. Maybe, if you see faith through the same lenses as she does, you would agree. I don’t think I believe in God necessarily, I believe in the universe and it’s power, I believe in the unpredictable way life works, always according to chance, chaos and sometimes even coincidence. But the thing is, I do have faith, in something that is bigger than us, something that I can’t quite grasp what is. I don’t know what that makes me but here I am.

There are things in life, however, that make me faithless in humanity and this world we live, but I am not getting into that today, today is about the things that reassure me and my faith that there’s something out there that is bigger than us all. For instance, just last Tuesday, the day woke up in a mood, with a foggy ugly weather and, for two whole hours it seemed to get worse and worse and I felt so smart for bringing an umbrella to college that day. By 11am, the sun was rising bright above my head that had me cursing my poor outfit choice – that consisted on a lovely blazer and Uggs. I went to the gym, worked out for as long as I could and came home, the weather was still as unstable as I am after a breakup – the skies were a bipolar mess between crying and laughing –, and the minute I sat in my living room/kitchen, I looked outside my balcony and it was pouring rain like there would be no tomorrow.

Yes, you can totally blame global warming or some climate change crisis the world is currently dealing with, but I felt like this was, somehow, because of faith. Maybe the universe just really wanted me to go to the gym so it just waited an hour more to cry out from heavens because it knows me too well to know I will not drag my ass to the gym when it storms. I called my mom to tell her this phenomenon and to rub in her face that I had still some faith in me, even after all the times life has tried to knock me dead. She laughed, and then she got to a whole different philosophy and I think she used the word ‘miracle’. And what are those anyways?

Maybe they consist in what happened to me on Wednesday, when after a whole night up looking for the perfect pair of vintage Giuseppe Zanotti shoes, the ones with pink fur and colorful ringtones, I found them, one of a kind, one in stock, in a local store 15 minutes away from my house. I’ve made many mistakes when online shopping before, the continuous one being maxing my credit card, but I’d buying shoes without trying them on is a close second. I cannot tell you the many times the fit was not nearly close to perfect or that I got something completely different from what I expected and alas I hate this kind of surprise. I didn’t have any classes that day but knowing my dream shoes were waiting for me 15 minutes from where I lived, and that they were my size, the only pair in the whole city and that anyone could get them if I was a minute too late, I took my ass out of the bed at 8am and was standing outside the store before it even opened.

It was one of those days you just feel in your bones the universe is conspiring for everything to work out, and those, as we know, are as rare as solar eclipses. Plus, who am I to argue with the universe and not embrace my sudden strike of faith and, dare I say, luck?! I felt the same pressure I always do when I am about to purchase an expensive item, and the whole two minutes the sales woman took to find them I felt my heart racing and my blood pressure going out of the ceiling. But when I tried them on and they fitted like a glove and I felt exactly how I feel when I am about to buy a pair of shoes I really want: Like it’s simply the best decision I’ve ever made, like nothing has ever felt this right. Ten minutes later, and a long talk with the sales woman about how they just don’t make such exclusive looking items anymore, the shoes were mine. There it was, a tiny miracle, almost insignificant for everyone but me and shoe collectors, but undeniably a miracle.

I started to wonder how many of those I had all my life and if some of them were more relevant than – and it pains me to say – a pair of fabulous shoes. Maybe I could consider all the times I drank way too much and didn’t die, miracles, specially that one time I almost did – and you all know that story way too well. Maybe when I moved to college and managed to survive by myself when I didn’t even know where to begin with, and all the times I drowned my kitchen trying to wash my clothes. Maybe that time I opened a wine bottle using a lighter, who remembers this one? And it made me think of love and relationships, friendships above all that,  it made me realize that maybe, just maybe, people are miracles too.

I am not sure what my mom considers miracles to be. But to me, there is something miraculous about people who will love you no matter what. Friendship works in a weird way for me more times than not, it ends up – like everything in my life – being more complicated than it should be. And if I was about to start calling my friends miracles, little pieces of heaven and whatever other definition there is to what those are, it got me wondering if all of them deserved such important title?

For instance, there are those friends you’ve had forever and meet every two years for a brief catch up filled with awkward silences and trapped in old inside jokes and the constants “remember when we…” and “oh my god what about that time in high school when…”, those I try to avoid as much as I can really, I don’t particularly like to be nostalgic over a past I don’t miss.

Then the friends you will never be able to truly let go, even if you can only manage to exchange texts throughout the week and squeeze ten minutes conversations in between weekends but, whenever you do get the chance to see them, you can feel your heart exploding with joy and happiness to be with someone you just adore so dearly.

There are also the friends that meant something to you for so long and as life went on and things happened, you kinda lost your friendship in between fights and new friends and sometimes, sadly, not even something in particular. Those hurt to think about, it’s weird to think about someone who used to be such a big part of your life and then suddenly, just isn’t. In my life, I’ve had my fair share of those and as much as they suck, always masked with the cordial “hello”s and “how are you”s and the infamous, “it’s been so long”s, somehow you manage to accept the reality as it is. Some things in life you will never truly be able to understand but you will have to move on like everyone else, even if somewhere deep inside me, I still miss them – all of them – so much.

And lastly, the ones that are the best ones and without a shadow of a doubt, miracles. The ones that follow the chaotic universe rule of popping in your life unexpectedly and you just know in your bones, and hope, for them to stay forever. Friends who you can have endless coffee dates and brunches with, friends you can go shopping with and will hold you back from maxing your credit card yet again, friends who will ditch studying – even if you both need to – and will spend the afternoon sitting by a swimming pool, sharing cigarettes with you. Friends who don’t hesitate to call when they miss you, friends that smile brighter when you are around them, friends who will hold you when you are falling apart and will glue you together, piece by piece, always offering kind words and a bottle of rosé, with a corkscrew and everything.

I am still not quite sure what miracles are, and of all those friends I just told you guys about, who can and can’t be considered one. All I know is that last weekend, my oldest and bestest friend, whom I’ve had so many turbulence with but always managed to get back on track, took me out to what I could only describe as the perfect date. There was a classics exhibition on a little local movie theatre and my favorite movie, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, was last Saturday’s big hit. We bought popcorn and M&M’s, we laughed, we stayed close as if it was 2012 and we were in my bed watching it over and over again – the movie always helped me understand a little bit more about myself and she may have never  quite understood why I needed it so much, but she also never questioned, never complained.

My first tear escaped my mascara coated lashes when Holly was explaining why we can’t love a wild thing – it was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me, all at once. Then there were many more tears, because I missed New York, because I loved that movie, because I was with my favorite miracle, and because there are things in life so beautiful they make you cry. Sitting in a small movie theatre watching the most iconic last scene of a movie ever, that was one of those moments, and somehow a miracle too.

I will never be able to explain faith and miracles and blessings and whatever else my mom loves to go on and on about. I think part of me settles with the idea that the least I know the better, that way I can attribute my own meaning to everything I can’t actually name. Maybe they have something to do with finding people to love you even when you don’t think you are that deserving, maybe they can be described as those late afternoons when it’s not actually night but it is dark outside, yet the sun is not gone and you kinda can see both the sun and the moon in the sky, maybe they are perfect shoes practically made for you that the universe conspired for them to be yours. And maybe, just maybe, they are simple things that bring you so much joy life seems easy for a moment or two, kinda like watching your favorite movie but as if you were seeing it for the first time, even though you know all the lines, making you feel miraculously close to finally believing in that old promise, believing that you are not quite alone in this Earth, and that those magical beings we call people always somehow find a way to make life better, as hard as mean reds can be, as forever as they seem to last, as alone as you sometimes may feel.

Last week I came here and threw up a whole lot of emotional stuff that I probably needed to write more than you beloved readers needed to read. I want to blame the full moon in pisces but that just wouldn’t be right. I don’t have to courage to go back there and read it again, though it is in the internet forever now I guess. Something about being terrified about how fragile I probably sounded and embarrassed by the amount of typos I committed for not being able to see through the tears what I was typing, and also, the fear of not making sense. And the fact that people still read it and appreciated my openness, is a miracle to me too. I will never be able to express my gratitude to the people who love me no matter how much of a poetic mess I can be somedays, and whether they are actually holding my hand or sending me love through this blog, know that I appreciate and am eternally grateful either way. You are my miracles too.

As always, stay out of trouble…but if by some miracle you don’t – oh my god tell me all about it.

– Your Girl on the Go