Full of love

A quick visit to America leaves me with feelings of contentment, pleasure, love and confusion. Three weeks fly by while I catch up with family and friends. I go out every night, enjoy small pleasures in Maryland, laugh, cry, sing, dance and fall in love.  I teach my family how to make homemade pizza as we gather in the kitchen kneading the fresh dough and laughing. My grandmother shares travel and love stories with us. She is Swiss and left her country at age 19 to marry my grandfather. She said she loved him at first sight and knew she was going to marry him, she told me that you will just “know”. I feel so surrounded with love. A woman has secrets deeper than the ocean, as she talks about her first love, the man grandpa never knew about. A slow smile brought to her face that resembles my own,  remembering the French nuns at her boarding school and how they would seek out and run through the garden, past the male guards that they batted eyelashes towards and to the boy’s quarters on the other side. I laughed and said “now I know where it comes from”.

  I cheers my girlfriends at multiple bars and restaurants. We talk and share stories around the table, our deepest secrets of the year spill from our wine soaked lips. Giggles and wine we never skipped a beat. I drink to much sambuca and shots with my childhood bestest, as I pretend to not speak English in a downtown bar. Meet a man from Bari, and speak broken Italian together. I dance all night with my other best friends on New Years Eve as I teach them the word for “cheers” in Italian. We sing, dance and full belly laugh at Miss T dancing like MC hammer.

  As I leave my girlfriends when I am finished dinner and parties I venture out into the Maryland cold to my car and into his warm bed.  He is from Russia, stern, strong and everything I never wanted.

I fall faster and harder the second time around. I spend most of my nights curled up next to him whispering and laughing. He meets me at midnight on New Years Eve and we spend the night on my best friend’s cold floor. In the morning my head aches in dizzying circles as he carries my bags and thanks my girlfriend. He kisses me and tells me to follow him, we stop at the nearest coffee shop and he comes out with coffee and a large bottle of water. I giggle as he kisses my forehead as my vodka and champagne sticky hair sticks to his face. He says “Krys I will see you later, okay promise me?” I pinky promise him and clumsily get into my car.

 The next night I walk in his house with my sleepover bag and grandma’s cookies. He takes my hand and whispers “I love you”. Wide eyed and surprised I utter “What?”

“I said I love you Krysta” he says again.

 “Damn it, damn it, I yell into the receiver of my to go phone!! I love a 21 year old Russian” my best friend on the other end laughs.  “More than the Roman?” she asks A Roman and/or a Russian huumm

 "What to do? What to do?"

Maybe we are not made to have one or two great loves. Perhaps we are made to have many great loves. I am not full blown marry me tomorrow in love, but I love him. I love two men at the same time for different reasons. I love easily, giving everything I have in that moment or that day we spend together. Anywhere in the world I think that you could have many great loves in a given country…maybe the fairy tale ending is exactly that. A story, a fable with no valiantly. So I will love as much as I can this year, if it is a man, a item, friends, colors, places or countries this year all I will do is love. Love everything that comes into my life, give it love and I will get love. Full blown, full heart love…for everything and anything. Especially me.