𝐓𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

3

Do you remember? I told you how I got casted as Juliet on my first month in LA, decision took by one of my professors -he was my favourite one-, and how that version of mine would forever live in our university. Too iconic, what else can I say.

But enough of my own praises, I'm writing for another reason.

Just like my ex, you had a special bound with ocean; after all, we were in Los Angeles. And just like my ex, I met you in a party. Not a beach party, but still.

One of the many fraternities on campus had thrown a party for the new academic year, I wanted so bad to attend it. I had to work to convince my roommate to tag along, as she was not very fond in the partying thing -like, how girl, just how-, but eventually I managed to take her out with me and not spend the rest of the night alone studying who knew what -later she would have thanked me for that 'discovery'-.

I mean, why staying up all night on books when you could stay up studying the perfect formula for how much alcohol you can drink before passing out? We are young only once after all.

You were at the party too, with your friends group, laughing at who knew what. Your long blonde hair -which is embarrassing to admit, but they were longer than my shoulder length blonde ones at that time- tied in a bun, unbuttoned shirt as blue as your eyes -which meant free view of your six packs-, a smile that looked even more dazzling against your golden tan; Nathan Jenkins, I really thought you could win Mr America contest in that exactly moment. A Californian version of Thor -I was surprised when I found out you were, in fact, from North Carolina-.

You were in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island, in your hands the typical red plastic cup; an American must have if I can say. I and my roommate stepped into the room too, desperately trying something to drink, and this is how we met. Bumping on each other like the most classic cliche teenager romcom.

Luckily it was not my dress that was dripping with cheap beer and not even your abs, see, that's a bright side for everything. We definitely made an impact on each other, didn't we?

When seeing me, you smiled and told how you already saw me. Again, thanks for Juliet with accent which gave me fame and notoriety. You even complimented me for my role, because you actually went to see my theatrical show, and asked where I was actually from. I told you to guess and luckily you didn't the Zz word; you actually thought I was Polish. Shout out to your geographic knowledge, by the way, it was nice to know that there were also people in America who knew that France is not capital of Italy.

We had a nice chat, before you could invite me playing beer pong with some other dudes. I had fun, you know, I was doing all those things I only saw in films until then. Don't get me wrong, I knew how to party, but American parties are different from European parties.

I remember that you and your friends were amazed of how much alcohol I could ingest without getting drunk. Slavic things, I'm sorry for the ones who couldn't live such an amazing experience.

I have a lot of fun memories from that night, from beer pong to seven minutes in heaven, or how your friends got you to kiss me thanks to a dare.

Useless to say, it was a party, you were drunk, I was not sober at all at the end; you didn't remember my name -but it's also understandable because my name is not American, it's kinda hard to remember and pronounce for not an Ukrainian or Slavic speaker-, but the effort you put to find me again already the next day... Boy, you're one of a kind.

You almost put up notices all over campus to find me, how sweet of you. Eventually you found me, this time both sober, few days later on the beach, where you showed up all your surfer charm.

I watched as you rode those Malibu waves with such confidence, I was in awe just like all those drooling girls around me. But you didn't care about them, you only had eyes for me.

When you walked back to shore, your blue surfboard under your arm, sea drops dripping from your blonde hair and running down your abs, you smiled at me. I smiled back.

You came to me, teasing me, and even tried to teach me how to surf. I passed down that offer, but said yes when you proposed to get something to drink.

You really were a golden boy Nathan, funny, kind, intelligent, supportive; the boy that everyone dreams of. We got together after a couple of dates, starting a fantastic love story, as if it were taken from a book.

How much have we been through, how much have we experienced. Days spent between university, parties, the beach and long night drives with loud music and wind in our hair. It was all so magical.

You were so happy when I told you that I had my first professional role for a well-known tv series; you accompanied me to the set, looking at me almost hypnotized and applauding when the director announced the end of a scene.

I, on the other hand, was always front row at your surf contests, almost wearing pom poms to act as your personal cheerleader.

In the end I never learned how to surf, even though you tried several times to teach me and cheering for me even when you realised I was a total disaster in it.

You introduced me to your family by taking me to Raleigh for Thanksgiving -a something which was so unknown to me-, even for Christmas and New Year, knowing that I was so far away from my family. God, you even celebrated with me, with such a joy, to Orthodox Christmas, respecting and wanting to learn my traditions and cultures. I even introduced you to my family, through a face call.

Do you remember that? How my parents, who were not fluent in English, used a translator to talk to you, you did the same with my native language, mixing some translator with some words you learned from me.

That year in California was wonderful, and it was also because of you.

Unfortunately, however, July seemed to arrive sooner than the two of us would have liked. My scholarship came to an end, just like my Visa card. I had to come back home.

As happy as I was to be back home in Ukraine, I was also sad to leave you, our memories, and the magic of California.

I remember you trying not to cry when you drove me to the airport, and neither of you was ready for a goodbye; but it was something inevitable.

We didn't promise to continue our relationship, we both knew it couldn't last, however much we wanted to. We were in love, but not that stupid.

We continued to talk sporadically when I finally got home, but it was difficult. Time zone, various commitments, our increasingly rare emails. It's sad, but that's life.

Just like the ones before you, you also taught me something important.

You taught me that we need to put effort in love too, that love needs also some wildness, some adrenaline, that love needs to make you feel alive.

What do you say, does now seem like the right time to come and see me in Kyiv?

Take with you also your girlfriend/wife, even your daring parents, whoever you want; you'll be my guests!

I hope life treated you well, because you deserve it. Hopefully I will see you soon, we have a lot to catch up, don't you think?

My best regards, your favourite ex girlfriend.

Sofiya Borysivna

—

Enjoy.

- Світлана