Who is writing this thing?

Ever since High School I had a desire to travel to Spain. I think it came from my Spanish classes. Not necessarily because of all the wonderful stories my teacher told or the fascinating rituals we learned about in our books. Actually, one of the main reasons I wanted to go was to speak Spanish better than my friend. Also, there is the feeling of being able to talk about someone behind their back, literally, and they not know it. That's why I learned the alphabet in sign language when I was in 7th grade, that and so I could cheat on tests with friends across the room.

So I decided the only way I would ever be fluent in a language is if I actually went to a place where I would be forced to learn Spanish all the time. Of course Mexico was always a possibility since I lived mere hours from the border, but then again, who really wants to go to Mexico (outside of the middle of March)? So I settled on Spain, where in Spain did not mean much to me at the time.

When I went to college I was certain I would travel abroad, but my opportunities came and went. After i had missed my last chance during college I told my family, I am going to Spain when I graduate. I was tired of finding excuses not to go, so I decided I wouldn 't even look for a job my senior year of college. I had also picked the place I wanted to go. A large shipping town called Bilbao.

For those who don't know, Bilbao is actually the 6th largest city in Spain. It is situated on the Northern coast just west of the French border. And while it might not be on many people's radar, it has one of the finest modern architectural buildings in the world, the Guggenheim Museum, which was designed by one of my favorite architects, Frank Gehry. So I had a reason to go, I had a destination, and then I met Sara.

I was a member of a student organization that was created with one of my good friends, Paul. The club was all about meeting international exchange students and helping them to adapt to the University and the States. In other words, we just partied with students from all over the world. Sara was one of these students.

People never believe in fate until they are stuck in a situation and can't explain how they got there. This wasn't fate, it was amazing and wonderful coincidence. I first saw Sara at a party and knew she was one of the international students. I approached her and started the conversation like I did with everyone else... "Where are you from?" - "Spain" - "O' cool, I've always wanted to go to Spain." (duh, who hasn't?) - "Yeah, where in Spain do you want to go?" - "Bilbao." - "I'm from Bilbao!" ...and the rest, you can say, is history.

Sara and her family helped me get a job and an apartment, and now I am living in the city I could only dream of living in, in love with the girl I could only dream of being with.