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Narrative nonfiction, Reflections


“What’s your dream guy?”, every non-committed woman has been faced with this annoying question… one that after listing the response, leaves you with the depressing realization that there is no such man. Or is there…

Four years ago, during a five-hour stopover in Miami International Airport, I went in search of a drink. A tall drink of water is what I found, sweeping up one of the gift shops and speaking with what sounded very much like a Cuban accent. I was curious… considering Miami was known for these hot-blooded inhabitants and the fact I took yearly vacations to the land of el tabaco y el ron (a.k.a tobacco and rum)… so I asked, “Are you Cuban?”. He was 100% American. He had majored in Spanish and living in Miami had ensured him a lifetime supply of Cuban friends to practice his second language with. A gringo who was practically Cuban… I was in love.

And then I woke up years later, single and wondering, “What if…”. Reality is cruel and yet merciful enough to award me the pleasure of continuing a long distance friendship with this individual. Just the other day he asked, “What would you do if the guy you were committed to felt uncomfortable with you going out alone with your male friends?”. You see, as a single gal for more years than not, I have been fortunate enough to acquire very close male friends who have collectively given me more than any one man has ever been able to provide – one who I can philosophize about life and religious views with, one who I can be a 100% myself with, one who I can tell everything to (who is genuinely proud of my accomplishments and supportive of my endeavors), one who makes me laugh and most importantly, one who I can salsa with till my legs turn numb.

They have been the men in my life for years. Could I ever just give up my one-on-one quality time with them? Maybe when you truly find someone that completes you, it doesn’t feel like such a sacrifice. Perhaps this is the very reason why people who ARE in a serious relationship sometimes keep their friends of the opposite sex on-call… to fulfill certain areas that their significant other does not (i.e. to complete them). Maybe these are the people who settled… that stopped believing in the existence of their “dream guy/girl”… or in my case, Mr. MIA.



About Little Miss Spanglish

Bright-eyed dreamer, set in her ways... enjoys working-out to slow jams. Hates being called by her full name by people close to her. Has never had a pet, yet has names picked out for her future fish, cat and Teacup pig (name of future dog still in the works). Loves receiving handwritten letters in the mail (long, handwritten messages in thoughtfully picked out cards also result in a smile). Will stare in disdain at her plate if it is inhabited by: brown rice, asparagus or beets (coming around on the beets). Finds skipping-down-a-sidewalk to be a lost art in adults... refuses to let that happen to her.


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