The summer I graduated college, I decided to visit my cousins in Italy. They live in Calabria, which is the “toe” of the boot. The moment I stepped off the plane, I was taken aback with Calabria’s beauty. I was so enthralled with the piercing blue ocean.
Every morning, my cousins and I would wake up early and catch fish straight from the sea. My Zia Romana would bake delicious cookies and bread. My cousin Franca and I would lay out under the Italian sun, drink wine, and party into the evenings at the local “disco.” It was magical.
One night, as I was walking into town, a boy around my age caught my eye. He was gorgeous, (like all Italian boys) with tan skin, dark hair, hazel eyes and a sexy Italian accent. He told me his name was Marco.
“Ciao, bella donna,” he said to me. “Where are you from?”
After I told him I was visiting family from America, he asked if he could show me around Calabria. Marco showed me the best places to get gelato, pizza and wine. We walked along the beach until the wee hours of the morning. Marco and I were able to talk about anything. I felt as if there was never enough time.
Each day, Marco would pick me up and we would have our morning coffee together in town. We would then get lunch later in the day and then at night have dinner and spend time talking and looking up at the stars. Making love to Marco was so beautiful. I just couldn’t get enough of him.
On my last night in Italy, I met Marco on the beach. He told me he was in love and had never felt this way before. I agreed. I couldn’t believe I had to go home.
Before I left for the airport the next day, Marco stopped by my aunt’s house and asked if he could come to America with me. He had cousins that lived in Chicago and could find a job. Although I had only known Marco a short time, I knew it was right. I was in love.
Today, Marco and I live together in downtown Chicago and we’re engaged. Everyday with him is like a magical Italian evening, sparkling wine, and love underneath the stars.
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