Latin serendipity, Part I

This is the first part of a story I wrote under the theme of this blog "NYC Romance". It's about the road to recovery after an internet romance. It's also about true feelings, despite the lack of physical touch, so necessary in modern romance as depicted in the media. Everyone's looking for band-aid relationships, short-cuts and sex seems the easiest way to figure out whether the relationship will work or not. Whereas women have the tendency to find "sex" synonymous with "love", men - on the contrary - have the faculty to multiply casual partners without ever settling down (of course, there are exceptions). But this would be a great topic of another story. As for now, I hope you'll find this humble piece enjoyable!

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Photo "Disillusioned by the thought of flawless love" by Orangeya

Latin serendipity
From Astoria to Union Square

Part I

I had almost forgotten him. Or, at least, I convinved myself that such was the case. The invitation to a party came at the right time ; I was ready to go out and have fun. How long had it been since my friends hadn’t seen me ? In a city like this, there’s always something going on, and I had deliberately cut myself away from just plain old fun.

Enough !

Almost four months ago, he stopped contacting me. Just like that. Like I was nothing ; like all that we lived was nothing. He broke my heart. What do I say ? He broke me. My msn chat page suddenly said « ricc1 is now offline » and that was the last time that I had heard from him.

It’s about time I move on and turn the page and start on a new chapter. It’s about time I meet other people and see what’s out there. After all, everyone tells me that I am beautiful. Somehow, those words only made sense when it was him telling them to me. As a matter of fact, our entire relationship had been like therapy for me, and I think for him too.

Over the months, we had become addicted to our chat time. I remember so many times leaving work in a hurry just so that I would get home on time to get to my computer. I lived for those moments. Life had stopped making sense unless I had my daily dose of him. It all started almost by mistake. I had posted a photo on hi5 and I started reconnecting with old high school friends. I received a message from him. Apparently, he noticed that I had checked out his photos a few times and wanted to know me. He also mentioned something about my being from the same country as me. I admit he looked very good on the picture he had posted; though, something always kind of told me that it might be a fake picture, taken from the internet. He almost looked too good to be true, and blurry in some areas. And me, well, I was just regular me.

He sent me a few words, we set a date to chat. I was immediately under his spell. Some of my friends warned me about the internet, and people passing for who they weren’t. I had also heard of people getting hooked over the safety of hiding behind a virtual relationship. Supposedly, it prevented them from facing real life and getting hurt by real people. For getting hurt, it’s true that I had had my share of it. Also, I didn’t plan on finding love over the internet. I was not looking to get into any sort of relationship or any sort of trouble for that matter. But all that’s in the past now. It doesn’t matter anymore since it is over. I have to pick up the pieces (of me) and get moving with my life.

First step : tonight’s party. As I lingered in bed, my phone rang. It was Jenna. « Where are you ? We’re waiting for you ! »

My friends were waiting for me in Union Square so we would walk together to Vincent’s appartment. I rushed out of bed and got to the shower. No time to think about what to wear ; I just threw on a dress I had just bought at Forever21 on 34th street a few days ago that was still in the shopping bag, lying next to my desk. As a matter of fact, I’d just wear everything I got that day that was in that bag : a very light dress – almost transparent tropical forest green color with black glitter ; some fake gold leaf earrings and a pastel pink rose ring. My hair was its usual self, with irregular curls falling all over the place.

« What the hecK ? I’ll just tie it in a big messy bun ». Some creamy Stila burgundy blush, two coats of mascara and I was good to go.

I got my keys, my phone, some lipgloss… I put it all in a baguette and I was off. Out the door, I realized that I had no shoes on. A small detail that would make a big difference in the subway !

« I’m really out of it, » I told myself.

But no time to think. I ran back inside the appartment, opened my closet and grabbed the first paire of high heeled red shoes I found. That should be ok. My phone rang again. This time, I wasn’t going to pick up. I’d get there when I’d get there. Sorry for my friends, but there’s nothing I could do at this point except hope that the next subway train would arrive soonest.

After what felt like a gazillion years later, I finally arrived in Union Square. As I was quickly trying to head over the exit, I noticed heads turning to look at me. « What’s going on ? », I asked myself. Finally, I saw my friends, obviously not happy to have waited, but definitely relieved to see me.

« Wow, you’ve decided to make a remarkable entrance, haven’t you ? », Jenna  commented, raising a brow.

« Why do you say that ? » I replied.

« No, for nothing. Let’s just go ; we gotta grab some wine at a bodega before getting to Vincent’s ».

Along with Jenna, there were also Svena and Naomi ; all good friends from work. They were talking, excited about going to the party. I just smiled ; actually, I was not exactly in the mood for all that. I’d rather had stayed home and watched some good old TV. A re-run of Keeping up with the Kardashian would have made for an entertaining evening. Instead, I was heading to a place full of loud music and people ; I have to say that it wasn’t a pleasant prospect.

But what if everyone was right ? What if it was about time I got out of my shell and forgot about a man that actually never really existed. It was true. There was no proof that he was who he said he was, that our relationship was even true. Did I even get dumped, or did I just dream up the whole thing ? In my head, all that was left was blur. 

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End of Part I