During my sophomore year at Columbia University in New York, I met my true love. I thought it would last forever, but I was wrong - I still think she’s my soul mate though.
I got accepted on a graduate scholarship and my intention was to learn as much as I could about the world of finance and big corporates with the view to climbing the ranks on Wall Street.
Six months into my higher-learning degree I realized that the rat-race just wasn’t for me. So I quit and did some soul-searching to try find some purpose and meaning for my life.
Oh, before I forget, her name is Amy McIntyre. I’ll come back to her later.
So after my short stint at Columbia, I headed out West and pretty much hitch-hiked my way to L.A. That was probably the craziest time of my life: late nights, wild parties, bar brawls and alley action with strange women - you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the half of it.
But through it all, I was still missing the one thing that made me happy. No woman could ever fill the void left by my woman, my one true love, Amy. We were meant to be, but she felt differently after getting to know me a bit better and I still miss her so much.
Every year on her birthday, I call her, although I’ve had to be careful the last couple years because her husband (overprotective douche bag), has been waiting for my calls and doesn’t let me talk to her if he answers first.
So back in L.A., I eventually got some work and tried a few start-up businesses of my own, only to see them collapse and me having to start all over again. I went through some really tough times in my life, the school of hard knocks, as they say, but I keep getting up again. You can’t keep a good man down.
And it’s no different on the love front. Amy might never want to see me again, but I’ll have her back one day. It’s fate. I know it is. I have to believe that.
In the mean time, I find myself here in your country wondering how the heck I got here and what I’m doing here. No, I have work of course, I’m no free-loader looking for a handout, but my line of work isn’t exactly going to make me a fortune and without money, you know how hard it is to lure the really big fish (I mean hot women if that went over your head).
But I’m fairly charming, have a way with words and with women, so it’s never really been hard for me to get ... well, you know. Having said that, I find it difficult to communicate with the women here. Don’t think it’s me, but do sense reluctance from their side when they hear my accent. I think the direct and forceful American approach is not to every young lady’s liking.
So the other night I found myself in an awkward position. At a restaurant close to where I’m staying, I saw Amy. Okay, not her exactly, but her splitting image, I swear it!
I had to force myself to stay in my chair, quietly eating my steak while keeping her in my sights the whole time. She was with her boyfriend, I think, so going over there was not an option, but if she hadn’t been so surrounded, I would have asked her to come home with me.
So where’s this story going, you ask?
I’ve traveled around the world, hoping and praying to find someone like my Amy. And here of all places, at the very tip of this African wasteland, I find her. But she’s with someone.
Do I keep going back to the restaurant, hoping that she noticed me as well and will be back there trying to find me? Am I so close to finding true love, but still so far?
The memories have come flooding back and now I need to decide; should I rush back home and tell Amy how I really feel, how I’ve always felt, or do I stay put and bide my time with her universal double, trying to find love in this strange land?
(And no, I am NOT currently married, I said I was involved with someone back home who may or may not make the grade, the jury’s still out on her, so time will tell).
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