1000 words, 5 days: Day 1

This is a photo of Jacopo, one of the children I take care of in my host family. I took this on the way to a beach town called Campomarino. This photo has much personal significance. Not only because of what this photograph represents but also because of what happened after I took this photo. After taking this, we eventually arrived in the town of Campomarino. The first few days were very lonely. It was honestly the first time I genuinely felt homesick. This was only because I had no friends. I didn’t have anyone my age to talk to. I was surrounded by grown adults and children.

As a woman in her twenties, I felt slightly isolated. ​

​Despite these feelings, I decided to grow a pair and go out to the disco by myself. I decided to buy myself a drink. As I was drinking, I observed the young adults dancing. After I finished my beverage, I went to the dancefloor and started dancing. Young men would occasionally try to dance with me, but I would shove them away. In the midst of it all I looked up, and coincidentally saw a shooting star. I had wished to not feel so alone for the rest of my time in this beach town. Half an hour later, my vacation in Campomarino was going to change. It was half-past midnight and that was when I noticed him. 

Just a fair warning before I continue: this is a romance story, HOWEVER, I typically don’t write about romance. SO, please don’t stop reading  JUST because this particular story involves a boy. If writing about a boy bothers you, you can skip reading the next few paragraphs.

I was staring at him. He was beautiful. Tanned with light-brown hair. When he finally did notice me, I looked away smiling. He still stared at me. I knew this because when I looked back at him, our eyes locked. It felt as though we were the only ones on the dance floor. We were in a state of trance staring at each other, smiling, and dancing. He began dancing towards me. He moved his body close to mine. J Balvin’s “Ginza” came on and we both danced in sync with one another. Our hips moving to the beat. Our feet bouncing off the floor. Our eyes were locked.
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This was unlike any other time I had danced with someone. There was something about dancing with this man that made everything okay. I didn’t feel alone. I felt wanted and desired. I felt happy. After hours of dancing together, we walked away from the disco and towards the sea. There was something romantic about it being the two of us alone on the beach under moonlight. He led me by the hand to a long barrier made up of large boulders. We sat down, stared at each other and then up at the night sky. We looked around and saw scattered fire pits that were in use by teenagers. We were sitting down next to each other for some time, trying our best in communicating with each other. There was a slight language barrier and I think the mystery of him attracted me even more. When the time was right, we stared into each other’s eyes and kissed. I had felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I felt like a high schooler who finally got to kiss her crush. It was sweet and romantic and exactly what I needed in that time period.

We met almost every evening after at the dance club. We also met occasionally in the mornings. He worked as a lifeguard in the beach chalet next to where my host family had rented beach beds. As each day and night passed, we fell more and more for each other. Which was hard for me because I was letting myself be vulnerable. The realization hit that the likelihood of us actually meeting again after this summer was highly unlikely. I think he knew this too. So when the time did come to part ways, we made sure to make the most of our time together before goodbye. I remember kissing him goodbye and getting on my bike. I remember it being about three or four o’clock in the morning. I remember crying the ride back to the beach house. I remember a feeling of loss. It’s the feeling you get whenever you get a heartbreak. I’ve felt this one too many times in my life. I’ve learned to cope with these feelings through writing about it. I think what made me get over this heartbreak a little easier was finding out he was already in a romantic relationship with someone and they had been together for over three years. When I discovered this, my stomach dropped and my face turned red. I was so embarrassed and ashamed. Although I hate what had happened after I found out, I would still do it over again because he gave me something that I wanted and needed at that time.

When I look at this photo, I am reminded of entering then leaving a place the same: alone.

However, I have come to the understanding and realization that it’s okay to be alone. Just because I feel alone doesn’t mean I have to let that get to me. I have embraced being alone and it honestly feels great.

This picture is also a good representation of the innocence and eventual growth that is found in a child. In the beginning when I captured that photo I was ignorant to the language, culture, and a few other things. However, I have grown since that picture was taken. I have gained a grasp in the Italian language just as a child gains the ability to speak. I hung on to my homeland like a child to its mother. Now I have grown to let my “mother” go and appreciate her from afar.
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We all have photographs that remind of us something that may or may not have anything to do with the photo itself. I think each and every photo has a story behind it. That is why I decided to share this story with you. This was very personal for me and I am not ashamed of my past of the choices I have made in my life. I hope this made you think whenever you look at some of my photos or perhaps someone else’s photo. Thank you for reading and check out what photo I decide to share with tomorrow!
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