The X

There are days when you read a message from your best friend, the one who names her child your middle name, you know that sort of friend;) and you can’t help but cry. You want to see her so badly, you want to tell her everything that just happened, and although she is thousands of miles away, she knew just when to message you and just what to say.

Last week I was at a loss for words, and that in itself is a strange thing for me. There is a time when every woman has to stop and think, what the hell was I thinking, or better yet, what the hell is wrong with men? I had met a new friend, and many of his characteristics remind me of home, not really anyone person in particular, but the outgoing, fun, laid-back atmosphere of southern California. We really got along well and it was the perfect new excitement that I need during the cold snowy month of February. It’s been impossible for me to date here, it’s so hard to find someone to even start to like, mainly because I know this isn’t my home, or typically it’s not theirs as well. Which is fine for me being single in Italy isn’t something to complain about. This was the perfect situation for me, nothing more than a new friend to enjoy for the last few months in Rome. That was until I found out he had a girlfriend back at home, after lying to me and saying his last girlfriend was 3 years-ago.

I should have been way more upset than I really was. I just thought, well at least he wasn’t my boyfriend and I found out after we were already living together that he had a girlfriend for 10 years. How sad is it that? Our standers have been set so low in liability to our ex’s? Have we as young women forgot what it’s like to date, and settled on a Mr. right now, or a one night stand? That was the worst part about my new friend, he was one of the sweet guys I’ve met, and not only sweet to me, but also my friends. I asked him once, why are you so kind to me? His response was simply, “When it is time for you to choose a boyfriend, I want you to know how you should be treated”. Now who knows if it was a sack of shit or from the heart, but I will take it for what it reads, in that, yes girls we should know what good behavior is and what is not.

Also, I must take responsibility for my own actions that aren’t always appropriate; I get to a point where I just don’t care. I know that is wrong, and I had another guy friend tell me that I always blame someone else for whatever situation has unraveled.  I thought on these words for a few days, rethinking situations and their outcomes. There is a simple truth I tend to forget: We can not control what happens in our lives cause by actions of other people, but we can control ours. When I found out my Italian Ex,( let’s call him Lorenzo), truly did have an off and on girlfriend for ten plus years, I should have ran far far away, or at least kicked him out of the house. I did something that I would never do again, I gave him a choice, and I said if you love her go be with her, if you don’t, then we can try to work this out. This in itself was pure stupidity, and would have saved me eight more months of pure insanity, and embrace the truth that he would never truly breakup with her. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Yes, I couldn’t control his actions, or the actions that had happened in his past, I could have responded differently to the situation, but because of his choice to stay together, the two of us needed a break from Newport and moved to Italy for the summer, which was four years ago in June 2009. That summer I fell in love with Italy. Their laid back culture, four hour dinners, the most beautiful beaches, the fresh bread and little coffees, I was in love, just not with my lying boyfriend, but with his hometown. I also met one of my best friends that summer, who thankfully has been my life saver while I’ve been here. Whenever I can I go to Naples, I stay with my best friend and her family and feel somewhat at home. It also helps that she has stayed with me in California and met my friends and family, and when you are living away from home and you don’t have to explain who or how someone is, it really makes a difference in the strength of your friendship.

My Napolitana friend had spent the winter in New York. I would have been at her house the first weekend she was home, but I was snowed in, so the following weekend I went for less then 24 hours, I arrived at 8:30 and left the following day at 6. We always go out when we are in Naples, but we always go out in Rome too, we made a joke the other day that all Italians do is go to the club, and my Naples friend’s response was, “Yes that’s because they have nothing else to do with their lives, but to think about what will happen this weekend.” Well I guess I don’t either, so we went to a great new club on the water down in the center of Naples. Around 4am were out on the dance floor just goofing off and a familiar voice yelled, “Wii, Nicolaaa, How are you?” I turned around as my mouth dropped open. I often wondered what I would do if I ever saw ‘Lorenzo’ again. Would I cry? Would I be pissed? When I saw him, we ran to each other like two best friends who haven’t seen each other in years. I grabbed his face with two hands and squeezed it as he wrapped both his arms around my neck. It was good to see his face; it has been three years since the last time we spoke or saw each other. We had worked together, lived together, and spent almost every second together for one year. I was happy to know I didn’t want to kill him or kiss him, I felt nothing towards him.

We spent the next hour talking, he said, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, don’t hate me” over and over, but it didn’t matter, I already forgave him. I looked at him and said, “I don’t hate, I pray that only good things will happen to you and that God will bless your life. I should thank you; I learned far more from our failed messed up relationship than any single event in my life. I changed the most, I grew the most, and I live in Italy now. How can I hate you?” He invited me out for coffee, and dinner at his house, I just looked at him and said, “Darling I don’t hate you, but I still want nothing to do with you or to be friends with you ever again-Tesso’, ti non odio, ma io non voglio niente con tu anche fare amichi, per tutto la mia vita! Hai capito?”

This time I had a choice to make, to let someone back into my life, or stay strong and walk away, knowing that it was the best possible thing I could do for me. And I did just that. I walked away, and I didn’t think about him again, until two weeks later when I was back in Naples and of course I saw him again. This time there was no long hug or hour talk, I simple looked at him, said ‘Ciao’, ‘fare salutare’(kisses on the checks), and went off with my friends. That was it, I had nothing more to do or say, and it felt incredible.

Over Christmas I had found my old journals from when I was18-24, providing endless stories, prayers and crazy bucket lists, like skinny dip in our Christian Uni’s Hot tub.  I had found this list of “My 15 Life Dreams” written in November 2003, I was 19 years-old.  It was the start of my second year at Azusa Pacific University, and my number one “LIFE DREAM” as I labeled this list was nothing more than, “1. Live in a different country”.  If that is all I wanted in life why did it take me 7 years from that very moment to do it?

I remember after ‘Lorenzo’ and I moved back from Italy in September 2009, I heard of a girl who was teaching English overseas, saying how easy it is to find a job as an English teacher. I was overtaken by excitement of this idea and ecstatic to tell my boyfriend what I had heard, that the sentence came out something to the sort of, “Guess what, when we break up, I’m traveling all over the world to teach English!!” I froze in the truth behind what I had just said. We had been planning our lives together (or at least I was, who knows which girl he was really planning with), but out of my mouth with a smile I said “when we break up”.  He stood there wide-eyed wondering if I recognized the words I had said, “I mean…IF, If we were to break up, I would…” I had been wondering if I really wanted this life with him and deep down I knew it wasn’t right. A few months later he flew back to Italy, where his ‘girlfriend’ was, and within one year I had managed to finally end a relationship that needed to end months earlier, quit my job, sell all the furniture I had, and a few days after my 26 birthday in  2010, I had finally accomplished my number one ‘life goal’ and moved to a different country. The best part is I had forgotten I had written this list of goals, and I had stumbled upon it only this past December, it was as if subconsciously I knew I had to accomplish this, and anything that stood in my way I was bound to destroy it, or it would destroy itself. To visit Italy was number 5, and speak a different language was number 7. I have made so many poor decisions, yet I have nothing to regret, some how God loves me and takes care of me, and through this mess I have been blessed in a incomprehensible manner, I am so thankful for every one and every event that has occurred in my life.

I have three months left in Europe. It’s this weird sensation; it’s a blend of excitement and fear. I went back in time when I moved to Italy. I moved LA on my18th birthday, and had my first really job-the kind that offer insurance, 401k’s, and a 2 month training program at 22.  Taking giant steps back in life, and striping everything that I held dear, reminded me what it is that makes me truly happy, what matters most to me, and for the first time in many years I had the chance to be completely selfish and enjoy every ounce of life. But as Michael Buble says, “Another winter day has gone away, in Paris and Rome but I want to go home…I’m just too far from where you are, I want to come home.”

One of the best parts of being here is making new friends- even if they lied about their girl friend to get laid. One of the hardest parts of being here is that I simple miss my friends. I have the most amazing friends and family. You all know my family, my friends enter the house without knocking, I don't have to explain something from my past because most likely you were there for me through these events, you shared these memories with me or partook in creating the memory. I miss you all so much; it has been so hard living two years without you all! I try to place you out of mind, but some days I look through old pictures just to relive the part of our lives that we shared together. I miss home. Whether it be my best friend I bonded with on a Mexico Mission trip, my GB friends, my cheer girls how many memories do we share:)? My college roommates 3 in a room;), my Newport roommate-coworkers-neighbor-tennis partner;) our dinner and wine evenings. Every cook, busboy, server and Crazy Italian that ever worked at Cucina, I truly miss you. For now, I’m here and I am going to saver these last months I have before stepping back into a real job and the real world, but who knows if I’m ready for that;). I love You: family and friends, New and Old, and I am so thankful for the men I’ve dated along the way. I’ve learned a lot, but I have so much more to learn, as I embark on these last three months before I return home. I have a new outlook on my time here. Saver the moments, laugh more, find pleasure in difficult situations, pray when I am not strong, and give thanks each day for the voyage it has taken me to arrive here in this present moment in time.