Oops I… had a romantic night in Venice

Venice was hot. 

The food. The streets. The air. The men. 

Beautifully tan specimens in work tanks, striped shirts, and white linen flitted around us constantly, their damp curls drooping on their foreheads. Regardless of the gorgeous men in Venice, I had no expectations of any kind of romance during my trip. My temporary hiatus on men had not yet been lifted. Romance, even in its most basic form of love between people or the idealization of love, has been far from the forefront of my life for a while now as I settle into a new city, life, and acceptance of myself; but there are some moments so captivating and beautiful that the only word that remains to describe them is ‘romantic’. 

Wait a second

Let me start from the beginning. An old childhood friend came to visit me in Paris for a bit and we interrupted our time in the City of Lights to escape to Venice for a few days to see another friend who was passing through there. Waking up to the supple ripples of the Venice canal, reflecting sporadic light onto countless gleaming rooftops dotted with bright flowers propelled me out of bed every morning. We started each day with a chocolate croissant and orange juice from Generator Hostel Venice as we basked in the breeze of the ocean. 

Each day we lost ourselves in the city, exploring its crevices and uncovering history and delicious pasta along the way. We walked until we were sunkissed and achy, often resting at the end of the day with a spritz in hand. On our last night in Venice, I scrambled to meet up with my friends, rushing out to the ferry after a work meeting amidst intermittent and confusing texts. Alone, I wandered the Piazza San Marco until a scream brought me to attention. I turned as my friend jumped into my arms. 

How wonderful it is to be in the arms of someone who loves you again.

How wonderful it is to be in the arms of someone who loves you again. My friend cried and I held them tighter with each sob. Moving across the world is not an easy experience, and even with my flitting memory, sudden flashes of memories remind me of all that I’m missing back home. Of everyone I left behind. 

A magical night

It felt like only our little group existed that night as we laughed and meandered around the streets of Venice. We laughed, we hugged and we admired hand in hand the beauty around us. My soul took a breath and released as it settled into comfortable, wonderful normalcy even in a foreign city. 

Ok ok so it’s not the romantic adventure you were expecting to read about, but that night as I heard my friends giggles lilting on the summer breeze as I looked at the warm colors of dusk on Piazza San Marco in Venice… it was hard to imagine a more romantic scene than that. 

So here’s to old friends, present experiences and new memories.