The Good in Goodbyes

In April I bought a one way ticket to Bari. When I tell people I went to Bari for one month they say...but why? I couldn't tell you. I had heard a lot about it from my friends in Albania, and other than that, I just wanted to go to Italy and be near the beach this summer. My first day, I understood what people were talking about. There's better places, they would say. After smelling piss and seeing the dumpster next to my building, I couldn't help but feel like I made a mistake. I knew nobody and nothing about this city. I settle into my room which is student housing. Being that it was all I could afford, I was praying God please let me have nice flat mates. There's a tall, blonde girl when I arrive. "Hi, I'm J" she greets me, with a smile on her face. I was relieved someone was speaking English because from my experience in Italy, not many people do. "Hey J, where you from?" "Poland" "oh my God, I love Poland!" I exclaimed with excitement. We hit it off right away and by the next day, she invited me to go on a trip.

It's Tuesday, July 2nd and J and I are on our way to Polignano. I'm a little intimidated, because not only is she beautiful but she captivates people everywhere we go. I like her immediately; she's a cancer, and we don't run out of things to discuss on the train. I’m glad I don't need to spend the next month fishing for friends and isolated like in Albania the month prior. Polignano is stunning and despite being a small city, there were a lot of people. It seemed so romantic and when I saw couples there together, I thought how nice that must be. I wish I wore makeup, since now I couldn’t take pictures of myself because I looked bad. So instead, I took a stunning photo of the sea and posted it to my story on social media.

The day prior, on July 1st, I unfollowed all of my ex’s on Instagram. The hardest was R, since the last time we spoke was in April when I went to Rome, and IG was all I had left of him. I wanted to be alone and focus on myself. I was trying to start over, a fresh slate, a clean break. No talking stages, no situationships, no entertaining people just because I was bored and lonely. I was ready to leave the past behind. I cut all ties to any romantic connections and felt proud of myself for doing so. The next day on July 3rd I receive a message on Insta. Perhaps an understatement, since whenever I tag my location I get new followers, messages, or both. Normally, I let my messages pile up in my requests, rarely ever looking and ignoring 99%. I have little desire to talk to strangers and even less of a desire to meet people off the internet. But amongst the new messages, one caught my eye. "Are you Albanian or Italian?" it read. Wow, no hello? Was my first, immediate reaction. I looked at the page since the profile had no picture. One photo. Why do these guys only ever have one photo?! I thought. Oh... as my eyes glance over the picture. The one on the left looks dangerous. I hope he's the one on the left. I creep on his stories and discover he's Albanian, so I decide to answer. "Neither, I'm American." I didn't think much of it, I thought maybe he would say something weird and once he turned creepy, I’d stop replying. Initially I really couldn’t be bothered but he kept the conversation going and I waited for a stupid remark that never came. We started talking more and we kept talking into the next day, and the next. At first I was slow to respond; I figured he would fall off and stop answering but he never did. He didn't say any dumb shit or comment about my appearance. When he asked to get together, I had my doubts. Do I really want to go out with someone again? Do I really want to subject myself to another fuck boy whose probably going to try to sleep with and then ghost me? I don't have the best track record with Albanians, and from what J told me, the men in Italy all have at least 10 girlfriends. I was prepared for the worst, but figured, what the hell? Maybe I will go out on one date while I am here. What’s the worst that can happen?…

We made plans to go to Alberobello that Saturday, well really, he made the plan. I was surprised he didn’t ask to go for drinks like the typical 20 something, but J informed me Italians were charming and it’s only because they want to sleep with you. Regardless, I heard of this place from my friend in Barcelona, so I was looking forward to seeing it in person. Somewhere during the week I asked how old he was, assuming maybe around 25. Turns out he’s 23. Shit. Is it impossible for me to find a man my own age? What’s the point in going out with him? He’s a baby. But I guess it doesn’t matter, since we’ll probably only go out once anyway.. He asked for my number and I was hesitant since I wasn't sure I'd like him and I only wanted to text if he didn't suck, which I doubted. The last year was filled with disappointing moments, and I didn't think this would be any better. I was shocked he wanted to talk on WhatsApp and not just Instagram, but I agreed since I was deleting it yet again. He texted me every morning and made plans for us for the entire weekend. I was both impressed and confused. He hasn't even met me and he's making plans to go out on Saturday AND Sunday?... What if I don't like him? What do we do then? How does this guy know he's even going to like me? I had anxiety because I didn't know what I was getting myself into. But after he sent me a voice message (which I loved) I could hear he seemed nice enough and I liked his personality regardless of what he’d look like in person. I put him in my phone as hot Albanian Italian. Saturday arrives and I'm nervous. He said he would pick me up. I get a text “I'm here"

I walk outside and look in the mirror as I go down the elevator. I don’t know what girls wear in this country, so I’m hoping my outfit is OK. I exit my apartment building and he's standing outside his car. "Oh wow, was not anticipating that" I thought to myself. He's tall, skinny and Albanian looking. I was expecting him to be short, since J and I are probably the only women over 5’8 in the country. We do the Italian cheek-cheek and he opens my car door. He tells me I’m the first American he’s gone out with. I feel satisfied and also pressured to make a good impression. I am suspicious of his kindness because the more suave they are, the worse they turn out to be. J warned me not to fall for their gestures because they'll use it against you in the future. I didn't trust anything he said or did. The city is an hour away, so I'm praying our conversation isn't awkward. "What do I do if I don't like him, mom? Then I'm stuck in the car together for the next hour and it'll be uncomfortable" I complained to her before he arrived. But I just had a feeling, and this feeling told me it wouldn't be the case.

He was funny and a little nerdy. He kept saying my name and all I could think was, why does this guy say my name so much? I wouldn't say there was an immediate spark or intense chemistry at first, but he was easy to talk to and friendly. I wondered if he found me attractive. We talked about Albanian and America. It didn't take long for butterflies to start whenever he would look at me from the drivers seat. I quickly warmed up. His eyes were big and brown. By the end of the date, I was trying to make him laugh as much as possible, because his smile was the best thing I ever saw in my life. Fuck, this could be a problem.

Alberobello was pretty but the most captivating thing was him. I was surprised at the end of the night when he said goodbye without trying anything physical. Okay then, I thought… a bit strange for a 23 year old. I wanted to see him again. The next day we went to the beach in Monopoli, another city on my list. He was energetic and outgoing. He asked me about myself and tried to get to know me. It was going good but there was just one problem… we were going to the beach. Which means he would see my body. In a bikini…

I remember debating if I should cancel. I was so ashamed of what I looked like that I called my Italian friend and asked him if men notice cellulite on a woman’s thighs. I was afraid he was going to look at me in a bathing suit (or swimming dress as he called it), and want to leave. I was scared he would be checking out other women with better bodies and wish he were with them instead. I worried he would realize I wasn’t as pretty as an Albanian girl, or as thin as an Italian girl and change his mind. But since I enjoyed our night together I sucked up my resistance and decided to go anyway. Stretch marks on women, are art, he said...

I remember getting to the beach and I felt bad because the chairs were so expensive, even to me. We put down our things and I felt creepy because I couldn’t wait for him to take off his shirt. I tried to keep my clothes on for as long as possible until he eventually asked why I wouldn’t take off my dress. We went in the water and I for sure thought he’d try to kiss me since it was the perfect moment. But he didn’t. OK, hard to get I see… it must be one of his tactics. When we sat on our chairs I couldn’t help but stare at his lips. His lips were the nicest thing I’d ever seen in my life, next to his smile. He laid on me and I stared at them, wondering what they taste like. I was salivating. I texted my cousin that I wanted to suck his face off. I tried to keep my composure. He hadn’t touched me yet but I wanted to touch him. Whatever game he was playing, he had the upper hand.

It was only the second day but I felt so comfortable with him. I didn’t feel like I had to try hard, or be someone different. I felt safe and protected. I felt free to be myself. The water was cool but our bodies were warm pressed together. He tried to make sure I was having a good time. In that moment, with my legs wrapped around his waist, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. I looked into his eyes, which were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, next to his smile and his lips. I wondered if he could read my mind. I traced my fingers over his face. His skin was soft and it belonged in my hands. I liked being close to him. I liked what I felt like in his arms. I didn’t want the day to end. I liked him. God damn it, I like him. On the beach he told me he liked me, but I figured it’s something he says to all the girls. This isn’t going to end well. Something needs to be wrong with him. My mind was racing a mile a minute. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to stay with him, be with him, talk to him. I wanted to know him and hear his voice and learn everything about him. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. What am I going to do now?

He drops me off in the parking spot and my heart is palpitating. I want him so bad and I think he wants me too, maybe. He is surprisingly respectful and modest, which I wasn’t used to. Before I get out of the car, I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to bite my tongue but the words slipped out before I could hold my breath. “Do you want to come inside?” I sheepishly ask, looking out the window. He thinks for a second and looks down. “Uh, I can’t, I have too much sand on me”. Too much sand? Then let's take a shower. I’ll lick the sand off your body, I thought. “Oh, uhm, I mean you don’t have to, it’s okay, yeah I understand” I say as my heart drops. Rejected. How embarrassing. What have I done?

I walk into my apartment and plop myself on my bed. Fuck, now I ruined everything. Now he’s going to think I’m some whore and not take me seriously. I fucked it up. I’ve lost all his respect. Now for sure he’s going to use me and ghost me. God damn it, I’m such a screw up. I call my cousin and tell her what’s happened. “Babe, you sound angry, but that’s a good thing he denied you for sex”. “Good? Why the hell is it good?” I yell back. Clearly he’s repulsed by my body and doesn’t like me. Or maybe something is wrong with him, like he has a micro-penis. Either way, it’s a bad sign, I snap. “Or maybe he just is trying to respect you and get to know you before jumping into bed together. Have you ever thought of that?” It’s not possible. He’s 23, what does a 23 year old care about getting to know me? I don’t trust him, he's fucking with my mind on purpose. I should just block him. “Why are you rushing to sleep with him, babe?” She asked. “Why wouldn’t I rush? We have 4 weeks, well technically 3, left. This isn’t going to be anything serious so why drag it out? Besides, when I like someone, sex is how I connect with them. It’s how I bond and show affection, I’m a very sexual person and sex is really important to me.” I get it babe, but I don’t think that’s the reason. I think you are trying to sabotage a good thing because you don’t feel it’s possible for a guy to want you for anything more than something physical. You are scared to get close to someone beyond the bedroom. If you sleep with him and it becomes all about the sex, it will take away from you having to be emotionally vulnerable and getting your heartbroken, because empty hookups are all you are used to. You don't believe someone could be different, so you're turning him into every other guy whose let you down before giving him a chance to prove himself. Bingo...

I regretted my forwardness. I doubted he would look at me the same. I expected him to completely change. So when he texted me saying "you have the best body I've ever seen" I not only thought what a bad liar he is, but that I just got demoted to the hookup category. But he asked to go to Lecce the following weekend and I was relieved. I kept waiting for the shoe to drop, I kept waiting for him to pull the rug out from under me but he didn’t. Friday came and we were going to spend the whole weekend together. I was nervous and excited. Nervous because I thought once we were intimate, it would completely shift the dynamic. As of right now, we had a good connection. I felt like I could’ve hung out with him without having sex and I would still have a good time just being together. He was playful and felt like a friend, someone I could be honest with and joke around. I didn’t want to ruin that and have him view me differently by introducing sex, but I was so horny for him that I was masturbating three times a day at this point. On our last day in Lecce we were eating lunch on the beach. He looked at me intently from across the table and had a smirk on his face. “What?” I nudge. "I love you Lorena. I love you, I don’t care, you can break my heart it doesn’t change how I feel about you." Oh my god… I have no words. I am speechless, mostly because I knew I could love him too. “Don’t say that. Don’t make me fall in love with you.” By the time we left, I had mixed emotions. I had no clue what the fuck I was feeling. The sex was good, but I felt uneasy. I felt off, I felt neurotic. The following day was my birthday and when I woke up in the morning I was in a terrible mood. My anxious/avoidant attachment started to rear its ugly head. Get out as fast as you can, it told me. You’re leaving in two weeks. How do you think this is going to end? Do you not learn from your past mistakes? He's only using you for the month and is glad you're leaving. Before it can go any further, you need to tell him it’s over. I was overthinking. I ignored him on and off the whole day. I felt angry. How dare he try to pretend he likes me. I bet he’s seeing like 20 different girls. Who does he think he is? Acting different. He’s probably worse than the rest of them! I won’t let a 23 year old ruin my life. I like him but it’s better to get it over with now than later.

When he came to my house he could tell something was off and I liked how intuitive he was. He mentioned how I had been cold and distant the entire day. I told him I needed to talk. This was about to be my least favorite birthday. We sat on my bed and I proceeded to start a fight. “You want to fuck my friend”. “What?” He said surprised. I know you want to fuck her, just say it. “I don’t want to fuck your friend” he laughed. His not taking this seriously added more fuel to the fire. I was enraged. I picked harder. "Just go!" I raised my voice. “All I wanted was to go out for your birthday, but if you want me to leave then I respect it. I wish you the best.” He started to put on his shoes and collect his things. I sit cross-legged, my eyes welling with tears. I look blankly at my wall. Everyone abandons me. Please don’t go, I panicked. “Please don’t leave me” I glare at him, my eyes begging. “What do you want Lorena?” He looked down at me with confused eyes. I knew I was signing myself up to be hurt. I freaked out, so I started drama in attempts to protect myself. If I push him away, I wont have my heart broken. Leaving before I am left is a defense mechanism I developed early in life but it didn’t work this time. I couldn’t let him go. “I want you to stay, please, I’m sorry” I desperately plead. I knew I’d regret it when the time came to leave, but I didn’t care, I was willing to let him hurt me. He was worth risking my heart for. I pulled him closer and start to kiss him intensely, my face wet with tears. I loved the way he smelled, I loved when he pressed his body against mine. I loved when he split me open and read me like a book. I loved when he was inside me and looked into my eyes. I loved how he made me feel beautiful and how when I was with him, nothing else mattered. I wanted all of him and I wanted him to have all of me. I started to fall, and I was cracking under the weight of the pressure. I throw myself on him and rip off my clothes. We went on to have sex for the next three hours…

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask my therapist the following day. I’m humiliated by my behavior. I acted like a child. He’s not toxic, I am. I manipulated him. He’s going to think I’m crazy and never talk to me again. I'm too intense for anyone to handle. What guy wants to deal with a girl who has daddy issues? I say frantically. “It seems like that’s what you want though, isn't it? For him to stop talking to you, or else you wouldn’t be testing him so much. You want to see if he really cares. You want him to leave so you can prove yourself right. So you can affirm your story that you don’t matter and nobody wants you, that you don’t deserve to be loved, that you’re not worth someone staying.” Nancy’s transparency always cuts like a knife.

I was shocked when he texted the next day. I was shocked by his consistency, messaging good morning and good night every day. I was shocked how he made plans far in advance. I was shocked by the effort he put in and how considerate he was, his thoughtfulness, his generosity, how good he made me feel about myself, how he made me feel nothing was wrong with me. I was shocked how he was only 23 but made me feel I was 16 again. I was shocked that he treated my heart with such gentleness. I was shocked how I’d known him for only 2 weeks but it felt like 2 months. I was shocked by how easily he made me not take myself so seriously. I was shocked how he took such care of me and went out of his way constantly to make sure all my needs were met. I was shocked how happy I was when I was with him, how alive he made me feel. I was shocked how being with him was healing me.

The night that changed everything was when we went to Matera, a city where James Bond was filmed (so I’ve been told). I’ll never forget this night for as long as I live because it was the most mesmerizing thing I’ve seen in Italy. Next to the hot springs I visited in Granada, it was hands down, by far, one of the most gorgeous places I've ever been. We find a restaurant that was like a cave. The lights were dim but it was filled with candles. It was cold and the walls were white. I remember he made reservations but we were late. As he's sitting across from me, I swear I almost start crying. It was stunning, everything about it. It took my breath away, he took my breath away. He was the best man to enter my life. He was the only guy in forever that treated me well and he can't be mine. He holds my hand and gazes into my eyes. I gulp and look away. I love you, I hear in my mind. I excuse myself from the table and go to the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start sobbing. I love him. God damn it, I love him. I felt powerless over my feelings. I didn’t want to love him, I tried not to, but there was nothing I could do. I love him and I can't help it. I have lost all control.

Matera was straight out of a movie. The time we spent that night felt something from a fairytale. The moon was shining and I thanked it for this moment. I took a deep breath and felt so grateful I could explode. These are the times that make life worth living. His hands were wrapped around me from behind and the stars lit the sky above us as we overlooked a cliff. I spread out my arms, “I am your Rose and you are my Jack. If you’re a bird, I’m a bird” I teased. “Don’t fall Lorena, please” he cautions. Little does he know, I already have.

My last week in Bari I cried everyday, dreading the inevitable. My departure was approaching, and the goodbye loomed over me like a death sentence. In a perfect world, he would ask me to stay. In a perfect world, we would be together. In a perfect world, I’d move to Italy like I always wanted. I didn’t care where I was in the world, as long as I was with him. In a perfect world, I would finally be enough for someone. In a perfect world, the person I chose would choose me back. “I wish I could take you seriously Lorena.” What do you mean? I prodded. “I wish you were the same age as me so I could have something serious with you, so you could be here and we have a relationship”. Daggers. These words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I heard them before, from R (the last person I loved 2 years ago) who told me that in Albania the woman has to be younger than the man. I remember he said he would only marry an Albanian girl. He would never love me the same way because I was older, had tattoos and I was American. I transported back to all the times he reminded me I would never measure up. There was always a catch & it was happening again. “Oh” I remark flatly while nodding my head. His family would never accept me, I would need to be a secret, again. I was always the girl good enough to bring to bed, yet never the girl good enough to bring home. I felt disappointment in the pit of my stomach. They were always enough for me, but I never enough for them. I don’t know what you expected, I thought to myself. This is a summer fling, not some Romeo and Juliet love-story. The truth was hard to swallow.

I met his cousin. He invited me to meet his friends. The Wednesday before I left, we went to Poglinano to have dinner. It was a completely different experience, because I had only seen the city during the daytime. At night, it was lit by the sky. “Where’s the moon?” I searched. “It’s you” he pointed at me. “If I’m the moon, then you’re the stars.” I gazed over the horizon which was too dark to see anything but the reflection of the sea from the street lights. I told him what I loved most about the moon is that no matter where you are in the world, you can see the same thing. "Now whenever I see the moon, I will think of you"... I prayed for this. Thank you, God. I will miss this, my heart whispered. I close my eyes and breath in as deep as I can, to take it all in. “Say something to me in Albanian, I want to see if I can understand” I instructed. He pauses, then repositions himself. Lorena, unë të dua, he says. I know what it means, but I have to pretend I don't. If he knows I love him too, then he won’t want me anymore. I don't say it back, but God did I feel it. I turn away, edhe une te dua.

I’m presently flying to Barcelona. There seems to be a theme of writing my best blogs while on a plane. What I love most about traveling is that you land in a new place with an open mind and excitement. There are endless possibilities and you don’t know what’s in store. The thing I hate the most is that when you go, you leave behind all the places and people you wish you could bring with you. It’s been a hard day. We said goodbye last night. I took it better than I thought I would, which is saying a lot because I was still a hot mess. My head was prepared but my heart wasn’t. The last night I saw him, I told him I loved him. I didn't care if he felt the same, or if he said it back. It wouldn't change a thing and I didn't want to hide how I feel about him. There were a million and one things I could've said but all I could muster was "I told you not to make me fall in love with you." If I didn't write down all my feelings, they'd bottle up and I'd combust. I hated this moment from the day I met him. We stood in my doorway and I knew he'd have to walk away from me because there was no chance I could let him go if he didn't. I wasn’t expecting when I landed in Bari to fall in love. I couldn’t have planned to meet someone like him, and if you told me in June I would've went through what I experienced this month, I never would’ve believed you. If you were to ask me how I feel about him, well I could write a book. But to sum it up, I would say, that boy is everything. I look at him like he put the stars in the sky. He is sweet and hysterical, while being hard working and serious. He is intelligent and honest, selfless and geeky. He is dependable and reliable. Responsible and crazy (the good kind). He is music and he is poetry. He is the sun and he brought me the moon. He is dusk and he is dawn. He is all I dreamed a man could be. He is magic in human form. He is a candle in the night. My heart was flammable and he made me catch fire. I told my heart to stop, but she has no brakes.

Who knew at 30 a 23 year old would enter my life to show me what love could be. When I was 23, I used to think I couldn’t live without a person. When my first love and I broke up in 2017, I was convinced I wouldn’t go on. I didn’t want to, without him. I thought my heart would never heal. At 30, I know, life goes on. You go on. The earth keeps spinning, it has to. You can and you will move on, even if you don’t want to. Life is comprised of moments that we wish we could forget or moments we always want to remember. It consists of memories we want to erase, and memories we’d do anything to replay over and over again.

Our second weekend together we were strolling in the sand when he told me how he "manifested" me, as he said, using the law of attraction. He described that when he messaged me on Instagram, he saw the moment we were currently in, on the beach together, going out. Little does he know I manifested him too, albeit unintentionally. In January 2024 I made a list of everything I want in a person. On it was: speaks three languages (English being one of them), Italian or Albanian, living in Italy, has a good relationship with his parents, family oriented, extroverted, and looks good on the outside but even better on the inside. He is silly, affectionate, sexy, wise; the closest I have ever gotten to my dream person. I don’t know how life works but times like these make me believe in fate. Why did I choose Bari? At the time I didn’t know. Had I not ended up in the apartment I stumbled across on Idealista, I wouldn’t never met J. Had I not met J, I wouldn’t have gone to Poglinano and had I not been there on that exact day in the exact time, he never would’ve saw me on Insta and this would have never happened. All had to be aligned for that to happen and if that doesn’t make me believe in destiny, I don’t know what will. While I am devastated, because I have doubts I'll ever meet anyone half as good again, I am lucky to have loved and to have had something so hard to lose. Even though I feel resentful that I waited 30 years for someone so wonderful but I don't get to keep them, I trust if we do something once, we can do it again. Certain things in life will ruin us, while others will repair us. I know from past experience that if someone is not meant for us, there is absolutely nothing we can say or do for them to be it. Sometimes, we want people to be permanent when they are only for us temporarily. When I met R in 2022, I knew he was sent to my life for a purpose, but I didn't want to let him go. I held on and had my heart repeatedly broken over the course of the next 2 years. I don't wish to do that again. There's an old saying "people enter our lives for a season, reason or a lifetime." I know that E was sent to me as a gift from the universe to give me hope. Because of him, I now know what's possible. He has given me faith. I forgot what it felt like to love, because I only recalled the hurt. But loving him made me remember why we do it in the first place. The price we pay to love is loss but the pain is worth it all. He was worth the grief I feel right now. I am so lucky to have met him. I am blessed to have gotten to know him. Although my heart will long for and miss him, I want him to live his life, and have fun; to be happy whether that's with or without me. He is young, and he deserves to be free & make mistakes, to learn what he wants from life and discover who he is. I care about him enough that I don't want to interfere or hold him back. I know whoever he ends up with is so lucky, & although it's goodbye, it's the sweetest I've known. If we look carefully enough, we can find that all endings are truthfully just beginnings moments before they occur. So instead of being sad that it's over, celebrate that it happened. Because how fortunate are we? To have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.