October 2021 – Dublin, Ireland

The Beefy Brazilian and I did stay in touch.  

Mostly via Instagram and occasional texts.  

Our spark remained lit via Instaflirting so I wasn’t shocked when three weeks in, I ever-so-cute-and-coyly mentioned I needed to decide where to go between the end of my Lisbon stay and a trip to Porto to meet friends, he said: Dublin?

YES! 

I mean… I will take that in to consideration… lemme look at flights (that I had been obsessively looking at since he left Lisbon…. so coy)

Now, before you go calling the An Garda Síochána, FBI, CIA, Liam Neeson, or Dateline…

I used my own money to book my own flight and my own hotel room. 

I also took on the mindset that I was going to Dublin for me, and seeing the Beefy Brazilian would be a bonus (I was obviously lying to myself, but you already knew that) 

I told the Beefy Brazilian I was coming in two weeks, and had to show him my tickets to prove it because he couldn’t believe it. He said he would have to work and study during the time that I was there, which was understandable (I mean he COULD have just called out sick, dropped out, or quit or whatever… but, I get it… I guess). 

We talked about meeting and going to Northern Irland on his days off. 
His days off that were TWO DAYS after I arrived. TWO DAYS, 48 hours, 2,880 minutes, 172,800 seconds. 

Okay, I know; I was going to Dublin for me and he was a bonus.. blah-blah-self-lies.  How was I going to make it TWO DAYS in the same city, breathing the same crips Irish air, and not see that colgate-commercial smile?
In a rare moment of weakness, I put my strong-independent-ladiness to the side and told him I didn’t want to wait to see him and suggested one drink the night I got in, since I knew he had to work that day and the next.  He agreed he didn’t want to wait and would meet me after work. 

The day I got in, I wandered around until he texted in the early evening and said he was off of work and was coming to meet me. 

I found a super cute little outdoor set up: all quintessential Ireland with a beer barrel table and stools, a street performer accompanied by angels singing Boyz II Men ballads (I MIGHT be mis-recalling that… but pretty sure that’s what it was), and tea lights on the table. 

I posed, I mean posted, up at the table and all cool and collected waited to see the Beefy Brazilian for the first time after that movie scene night 5 weeks prior. 

If you have been following any of this journey, you know that is a big ole lie.  “Cool and collected” is by no means a natural, or forced, state of being I am capable of. 

Sitting there waiting, I was running through every “what if”: What if he doesn’t show up? What if I imagined this whole connection?  What if the spark was never there and we were both just caught up in the moment?  What if bachelor #4 is my soulmate? What if he didn’t think I was pretty? What if our moment was just meant to be a moment? 

What if…. 

… he was standing right there, looking like a Brazilian dream boat in his camel overcoat.  Looking around in his toque that was somehow even sexier than his bald head. 

He finally turned, saw me, smiled, and I fell right off my stool. 
Okay, I didn’t actually fall off the stool, but I teetered. 

When we hugged, one of those long, full body, soul touching hugs, he said “I can’t believe you are in Dublin”.  

I could hear my Irish ancestors cheering! The spark was definitely still there. 

We picked up right where we left off (well, where we left off a few hours before we left off… seeing as we were dressed).  We sat at that beer barrel table and talked until we noticed all the other tables and stools had been brought inside, our waitress had stopped replacing our tea candles as they burned out, and we were given that gentle “you don’t have to go home, but can’t stay here” nudge. 

We walked through the streetlight lit streets of Dublin, arms linked huddled together in that cute-movie-scene-in-the-cold-way, stopping for swoon worthy kisses and declarations of “I can’t believe we are here”, until we realized we had stayed out so late, he only had 5 hours before he had to be to work. He put me in a cab, with promises to see me the day after next, and headed home. 

The next day, I did a little research for our trip to Northern Ireland, and realized our little trip wasn’t possible due to restrictions that were still in place. We were both bummed, but as soon as he said: “It doesn’t matter, we are together”, I didn’t care if we spent the next couple of days digging up bog bodies, as long as we were doing it in each other’s presence. 

On his first day off, we properly reunited <wink wink> then kicked off a whirlwind few days of touring, eating, drinking, properly reuniting, whiskey tasting, endless conversations, and … properly reuniting. 

It was an amazing few days.  He took me to his favorite Brazilian restaurant, I surprised him with coveted last-minute whiskey tasting tickets (ya girl knows people everywhere), we laughed over his first pho-eating experience (napkin bib and all), we walked miles, and talked for hours. Everything felt so natural and easy. 

Even our conversation about what we each wanted in a relationship and out of life, which just didn’t align, was an easy and natural conversation.  He wants a family, I do not.  He wants stability and routine with occasional adventure, and I want adventure with a tinge of stability. We realised we were perfect for each other in every way, in that moment, but not beyond. 

As the Boyz II Men ballads faded out, the angels stopped singing, the Life Time film crew packed up the set, I was both crushed and happy. 

I was happy to have the experience and to have an actual ending: no ghosting, no bread crumbing, no wondering. Crushed that there likely wouldn’t be an encore, second season, Part II. 

A heartbreak-adjacent story, I would go back to Lisbon for one night before heading to Porto and tell Bachelor # 4 all about. 

(The Beefy Brazilian just celebrated his one year anniversary with his girlfriend.  He is very happy and she appears to be a great fit for him.  We continue to chat via Instagram on occasion and are rooting for each other and our respective paths. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still look at those smiley pics and think: damn, our hypothetical kid would have had some AMAZING teeth.)