Valentines Day

Landing back in New York was a strange experience - it was already no longer feeling like home and I could not stop replaying what had happened. This was really it. My mind constantly drifted back to that beach in Cartagena. He had brought up the topic and made it clear he would need to formally propose to me - but we talked about it like 2 rational adults, and though it wasn't a formal ceremony it was more of a gentle acknowledgment people do when they know they’ve found home in someone else. We made plans for a life that felt both reckless and perfectly reasonable. I’d go back to New York, pack up my home, resign from my job, put everything in storage, and then return to Bogotá by March or April to start a new life with him.

We had just spent six uninterrupted weeks together, the longest we’d ever gone without distance. It was magic. We cooked, laughed, argued lightly, and still wanted to be in the same room the next morning. It felt like proof that love could survive logistics. I had enough money saved to launch my business in that time as well and Cristian had helped me a great deal with his natural instincts for project management and organization. It was a sound idea and I had already secured two potential investors who knew me and the value of the products I had. 

This was real. The year I would turn 41, I would be able to run my own company, live abroad, build a life with Cristian and Colombia and explore the world together. I was so happy and grateful, I felt like I was in a hallmark movie.

Then came Valentine’s Day.

He surprised me with the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. A friend of his had been “helping” me pack and sent me out for tape and lunch, but when I came back, my room was covered in flowers, candy, and a small teddy bear. Later that night, Cristian asked me to sit at my computer for a surprise. I remember being slightly irritated because I was busy, but when I finally followed his instructions, he had me open a "Prezi" presentation — a membership he had bought for me because I’d been complaining about how hard it was to make slides for my business. It was the most practical, yet intimate, gift anyone had ever given me.

He told me not to open it just yet — to wait. And then, over the call, he climbed up to his rooftop in Bogotá and started playing a portable speaker. The music was from Final Fantasy and Suikoden — game soundtracks he’d never heard before but had found because he knew I loved them and sometimes raved about their stories while he tried to listen and follow along politely.

When he finally told me to open the presentation, it was a slideshow of our story — a dozen pictures from our first messages to our trips, our laughter, our small fights, our victories. The last slide was blank, titled simply “The Next Step.” A someone who is quite stoic and learned to manage emotions, even this felt like too much and after I expressed my unending gratitude to him and we ended the call, I got so emotional, I could barely breathe. It felt like everything I had ever wanted was right there, waiting for me. Joy, Love, Gratitude, Disbelief, Excitement and Being so SEEN by someone was overwhelming.

And while I wasn't ready to accept it yet, I also party knew the emotional kickback was based on what I I would come to recognize as a pattern and a signal for what would be next.