SUMMER 2016
i moved back to south beach in the summer. right before memorial day weekend which (just google it) is like spring break on steroids. i remember maybe having four huge bags - two green army duffles, a rolly rolly bag and my thrift store samsonite bag from the 70s - and a dream, that's all. i had been in cali for 3ish months, saving up money and plotting my next scheme. after breaking my foot, i had no choice but to return to the west coast to lick my wounds and recharge my battery. it was 2016 and i was 25.
i moved in with a person i knew for years from working events (specifically producing the miami beach pride festival and parade); i didn't know it at the time, but she was to be my gypsy. she inspired my life from the directionless direction it was in and steered me towards a path of art, strength and power. i didn't see myself as being a big deal, or even a medium deal - i thought of myself as a small deal country girl from a place no one really knew about or could place on a map. she saw something in me, perhaps something that reminded her of herself. she was a great sage in my life and someone who helped shape me into the woman i am today.
she would be gone most of the summer, working as an event producer for a gay cruise line. instead of packing different cargo pants and sports bras, she was packing different lewks for circuit parties. i believe we were under the same roof for one night before she departed land for the sea.
and she wasn't just any roommate, she was the roommate we all wanted as a girl. she had every possible beauty product you could want because she also did fashion week for maybelline. she had outfits galore due to all the parties and galas and events she's had to attend. she had designer, she had vintage. one time when i was cleaning her closet for her, i discovered two wrapped hermés boxes and she bequeathed one to me. it was a scarf - pink and purple, straight from france. at the time, it was probably the most expensive thing i owned.
when i moved to miami, i was dating this guy who did the sound and LED screens at pride (he would later work the fyre festival and thankfully so because i ended up crashing at his house on the island. instead of the ship they put us on, which made me super seasick) and it was maybe a week of dating before we both parted ways amicably. he and i would still get together in the following years - one time i did a gig with him for miami music week at a pool party and the fire marshal shut it down because people were crowding in the elevator doing coke LOL. ultimately, he and i were into different things, although we could have fun together - and i found him to be a little safe and boring at the time. now he's happily engaged. go him.
i met ryan a few weeks or so before father's day - i know this because he took me to meet his father on father's day and i remember thinking that he and i were for sure bf and gf due to the circumstance. in retrospect, that was reaching. still, the phone of which all of this "evidence" is on has since become unusable and so i have had to to utilize old social media trails to determine this. there are few receipts left from 2016, but the ones i do have, i hold close to the chest.
i remember being on tinder (a decently newfangled concept, as it launched in 2012) and going on some lame dates with some guys. one of the guys complained about how some girls in miami were "on tinder for breakfast, lunch and dinner" and it dawned on me that i could do the same. i never saw him again and yes he paid for the meal. then, one night, i matched with a hunky guy (whose profile pic was him in a backwards hat with a surfboard, looking very 90s abercrombie and fitch) and the same night he proposed meeting up. i was nervous, but willing. he pulled up in a beater car in some cargo shorts, flip flops and a loose white tee and was hotter than his profile pic. which never ever ever happens, like, ever. and the car was stick shift - so he was even hotter. i know this sounds stupid, but after dating some miami boys who probably didn't know how to check their oil, it was a win in my book.
the first night we hung out, i remember watching movies and laying my head in my lap. almost as if we had been dating for some time. i believe i tried to put the moves on him and he stopped me. he said we didn't have to do anything and that i didn't need to feel pressured. i was so tired, we just ended up going to sleep together, snuggled. years later, it still sticks with me. it made me feel worthy, finally. it made me feel beautiful. and someone as gorgeous as him, who had probably done the same, it was like he knew what to do to not make me feel like a piece of meat. to make me feel like i deserved more than just someone to want my body. he could have gotten some, but he chose not to. he chose to be with me and get to know me. he knew sex was in the cards - but before sex, he wanted to connect with me. other than my one (ex-)boyfriend, no guy had taken the time on or for me like that. it certainly impacted me and still does.
we were together that summer and i felt like i was at the top of the world. i wished my ex boyfriend could have seen me then. i wanted to parade him around and shout from the rooftops how much i cared about him. how happy i was. i felt like i had gotten what i not only wanted, but deserved from the universe. he was a gorgeous, built 6'3", florida born-and-raised surfer. he had piercing dark eyes. a little shorter than shoulder-length dirty blonde hair that was rarely combed. he had no problem walking around with no shirt on and hopefully he realized what a 2010s version of a greek god he was. i remember that he would often come stay at my apartment on 9th and euclid and we'd do a nightly walk on the beach, listening to the waves.
i worked at starbucks on 12th and washington and during the summer, these two lovely gay latinos who also worked at starbucks were visiting. i had met them earlier in the day when i was working and suggested some cool LGBT-friendly places to go to. we bumped into each other on the beach, while i was with ryan, and it was such a buzzing feeling to be able to introduce him to people i knew (barely). it was the night of the pulse shooting, because i remember the two guys being scared and i remember ryan and i walking them to twist (a famous gay bar) and clearly seeing a police presence in full effect, putting them at ease. it finally felt like the universe was gifting me this amazing situation, where i would feel all the feels and they would be reciprocated accordingly. it felt deserved.
and then...i found the needles. it was quite a bummer because, as aforementioned, i was really quite taken with him. i was willing to overlook the sheets used as curtains in his apartment...or the lifeguard job he had at a local water park despite his skills...i just thought he really liked me and i really liked him. i almost didn't want to think or believe that anything other than us falling in love was happening.
one morning, he went up to go shower. i don't know if i checked the bathroom door, but in retrospect i'm sure it was locked. i don't know what came over me, but i got the inclination to snoop. i looked around the bedroom and found nothing. i looked around the living room and found nothing. then, as i was in the kitchen drinking coffee and contemplating life, i noticed the edge of a ziploc baggie hanging above his cupboards. the top of the cupboards was a high height, but not as high for him. i scrambled up there, still hearing the shower running and snatched the bag. it was full of small needles with little orange caps. my heart winced and my nerves shook. no, i thought, not this - not needles. when we began dating, he confessed he was almost a year clean from heroin. it worried me because i knew all about recovery - and dating before you've been clean for a year was highly frowned upon. he also told me it was one of his old girlfriends that got him into it. i knew these things and continued messing with him, thinking i could be some kind of shelter for his storm (yes, like the bob dylan song, you got me.). not hoping i could change him - just hoping i would be the person who stood by his side when he was working to better himself.
i think we all know what happened - when he got out of the shower i confronted him in a loving and diplomatic way, assuming nothing but positive intent. but, because my sister had a past with hard drugs, i reserved a lot of my fears. he told me they were for steroids and that he was ashamed of his body, his muscles and how small he'd become. he didn't show me the vial of steroids or whatever he was putting in the needles, but i do remember him googling "what needles used for steroids" and after seeing the same type online that were in front of me, i agreed to disagree and dropped the topic. like in x-files, i wanted to believe. but i knew the truth was out there.
i know we kept seeing each other and i know my spidey senses were tingling. it probably felt like the slap of reality i was looking for. the expression of "too good to be true" or "all that glitters is not gold" comes to mind.
surely there were other tell-tale stories of that summer i have not included, but none more memories that i can remember now.