Everyone has a special day, a day where something changed forever, in a way that could never be undone…
I woke up planning to get out of the house after lunch and drive all the way to Mira to spend time with Sofia.
Over the last few days together, everything had felt easy—we cooked, talked for hours, hugged, and shared gentle kisses that said more than words ever could.
I was, and still am, completely in love with her.
Her dad had booked her a couple of days at a hotel in Mira to rest and enjoy, but I couldn’t bear being apart.
My mind kept replaying her voice, her eyes, even the small sounds she made when she was comfortable. She was pure calm. All I could think about was her.
That day, the 30th, I went out to walk the dog, but halfway through I got a call that flipped my world upside down.
My mom told me my uncle—who’d been battling cancer at home—had suddenly needed to go to the hospital by ambulance.
She asked me to rush over and be with my other uncle, Oscar, who was devastated and lost. They were pretty close, so I could feel his panic through the phone.
In the hospital, the mood was heavy. No one said it out loud, but everyone was preparing for the worst.
My uncle drifted in and out of consciousness, breathing shallow and weak;
Oscar was at his side, his own grief spilling out as he tried to comfort the man who’d helped raise us both.
Honestly, the whole scene stunned me. In one part of my mind, I was just standing there, trying not to fall apart. In the other, my thoughts kept circling back to Sofia and Mira, wondering if there’d be a chance to escape all of this sadness—even if just for a few hours.
I stuck it out, did everything I could for my family. Gradually, more people arrived, but my uncle kept fighting through the day. Eventually, there was nothing more for me to do, and I realized I could go.
I rushed home, swapped cars and clothes, and set out with nothing but Mira in my GPS.
I hadn’t eaten for over 24 hours and the drive made me sweaty and a little anxious, but nothing was stopping me.
When I got there, the weather was cold and cloudy, as if the world was holding its breath. I still had no plan, so I decided to improvise and headed to the hotel to pick up Sofia.
Her grandma was on the balcony, waving her hand with that judgmental air she always had. For a second, her look almost made me smile—because it didn’t matter.
The only thing I saw was Sofia walking towards me, and everything else faded out.
Just then, the clouds cleared as if the universe approved. Suddenly, it was beautiful. Creepy weather gone, sun shining, and finally, we were together.
When Sofia settled into the car, we hugged a little longer than usual, just taking in the relief of being together again.
We waved one last time to granny and made our way to the beach.
The moment we hit the sand, it felt like all our stress had blown off with the wind.
The sky was wide open, everything bright.
We laid down side by side and just soaked up the sun, cuddling, laughing about nothing, snapping photos of our messy hair and genuine smiles.
When the breeze started getting colder, I wrapped Sofia up in our blanket—even if that meant my own arm was out in the open. It didn’t bother me: I just wanted her warm.
We stayed there a while, letting the world slow down with us.
Eventually, Sofia’s stomach started growling—a clear sign the morning was catching up to her.
Normally she’s happy with a CBO from McDonald’s, but today she wanted something better. Luckily, I’d done some research and found a hotel restaurant nearby.
We walked in expecting cozy lunch smells and people, but instead we got silence. There was nobody at the front desk, not even a sound coming from the kitchen.
I rang the bell a couple of times, but nothing. We peeked into the restaurant section—dark, chairs stacked, not even a trace of life.
For a moment, it felt like we’d wandered into a scene from a weird indie movie: an open hotel in Mira, somehow totally abandoned.
We started joking, laughing so much it almost made us forget how hungry we were. Our footsteps echoed in the halls as we explored, searching for even a single sign of someone working there.
It made everything feel surreal and hilarious at the same time.
After exploring, we both needed the bathroom.
I finished first, and in a burst of nerves and mischief, I decided to hide and see if I could make her laugh.
I found a spot out of sight and waited in silence.
Sofia came out, calling my name, her voice echoing through the empty hall as she checked every possible hiding spot—even the dark restaurant, which was honestly kind of creepy.
When she finally walked by close to where I was hiding, I jumped out and scared her—and her reaction was priceless.
First, shock, then laughter, her cheeks turning red with the surprise.
In that moment, standing alone together in a practically empty hotel, I felt like we were kids again, lost in our own world, making something special out of a day that would have been to forget otherwise.
After exploring the haunted hotel, our hunger still hadn’t gone away.
We climbed back into the car determined to find food, and after driving for a bit we found a nice restaurant right in front of the beach.
We parked, walked in, but realized it was packed. We didn’t mind waiting, though—the day already felt special, so we just hung out until we got a table.
Once we sat down, we started checking out the menu. It’s funny how certain little details stick with you forever.
Sofia, who’s spent years in Canada and speaks perfect English most of the time, looked up from the list with this serious face and asked for “rib hey.” The way she pronounced ribeye—“rib hey”—was so off that I just burst out laughing.
It was one of those moments you know you’ll never forget.
We prayed quietly and thanked God for the food, and honestly, the steak was amazing.
We shared a salad too and finally felt completely satisfied.
Time seemed to pause for us; it was still early, and we knew we had at least another hour before she had to head home.
Wanting to make the most of every minute, we got back in the car and drove along the beach until we found a quiet spot.
We parked, soaked in the view—waves rolling, sky a blend of colors—and without really talking about it, we both knew what we wanted: just to be close.
We’d set boundaries, wanting to stay pure until marriage, and honestly, looking back, our next move probably wasn’t wise. But it felt safe at the time, it felt right.
We dropped the rear seats and climbed into the back.
At first, it was just a hug—a long, peaceful hug. Then something changed.
It wasn’t lust, or some reckless urge. It was way deeper than that. I looked at her, and each time I kissed her cheek, I saw her literally relax, her eyes melting closed, her whole body just… at peace.
Every time my lips touched her skin, it was like I could see this bubble of calm filling her up completely.
And then, almost out of nowhere, something weird happened inside me.
My heart felt like it was burning, like the sun—just fire and big, heavy explosions, every heartbeat was light and heat and fullness. I was completely at peace too.
I can’t give a logical explanation for it, but right then and there, I just knew. I knew that I loved her, and more than that, I knew she was the only one for me.
I’d never felt anything like it before, like all the walls I’d built around my heart just cracked.
If you imagine my heart as an egg, this was the moment it cracked open and I came out.
We lay there for a while, just being together, amazed at what was happening—no temptation, no tension, just this real, gentle kind of love.
It was like Jesus had swept away every bit of fear or pressure from our hearts, and I remember feeling so grateful.
Suddenly, Sofia got a call from her dad—it was time for her to go home.
That magical feeling stayed with us, impossible to shake.
I looked at her, wanting to say it—those three words I’d been holding back.
She caught my stare and asked, “What?” I smiled, teasing, “You know!” She did know, and wanted me to say it. She wanted to say it too, I could feel it.
We’d promised that our first kiss on the lips would be after those words were spoken, after we said “I love you.”
Truth is, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it first, and I didn’t want to rush her. And once you say it, you can’t just take it back.
So we held back, both knowing, and the anticipation made everything sweeter.
We parted ways; I dropped her off and went back home. We talked on the phone that night, both of us knowing what had happened, knowing nothing would ever be the same.
That was the moment everything in me shifted.
That’s when my heart changed—like it really cracked for the first time and let love rush in.
I still think about it often, keeping it close. Sofia was the one, is the one—my biggest treasure. I know I’ll love her forever…