He taught you phrases in another language. You showed him the secret spots in your city. There were no fights about bills or family drama. It was pure, unadulterated fantasy. When he left, you cried at the airport. But months later, you realize you don't miss him ; you miss the version of yourself that was free enough to fall in love without a safety net. He is the ghost of adventure. Ah, the poet, the musician, the painter. This boy saw the world in metaphors. He made you mixtapes (or playlists) that explained your feelings better than you could. "De los chicos que me enamoré" includes him because he was exhausting but exhilarating.
Every time you opened your heart, you risked annihilation. And you are still here. You are still soft. You are still willing to try again. De Los Chicos Que Me Enamore
So, here is to the boys we loved. Here is to the tears we cried. And here is to the woman who survived them all—stronger, wiser, and finally ready for a love that doesn't require a list of warnings. He taught you phrases in another language
Think about it. De los chicos que me enamoré , the one constant is you. The teenage you falling in love for the first time. The heartbroken you crying on the bathroom floor. The brave you deciding to date again after a disaster. It was pure, unadulterated fantasy