Just kidding

Okay. So the story doesn't just end there.

The inevitable depression that follows an amazing vacation results in sitting under the gloomy skies and obsessing over the next time I get to break free from the mundane repertoire of work and other aspects of a "normal" life. The depression was real. I was scouring the sites for cheap deals back to the very resort in Cuba I just returned from - why the same resort - I asked that question a lot but justified it to myself and others that I felt "safe" and "comfortable" in that resort and that I "trusted" the food and people there. Bullshit. I called it and I can feel that you're calling it too. I couldn't comprehend why I felt the need to return but a few days after returning, I had already booked another trip to the resort but this time with a family member.

I get embarrassed just thinking about it. I only met Jorge for a total of maybe two hours of my life, yet I felt the curiosity to go back?! I had no idea who he was, never got his email or phone number nor did he get mine. I only knew his name and that he claimed to be twenty seven. Do they drug us there so that we feel compelled to return?! (I still have internal debates about this - plausible in my mind) So no, it was of my own free will and curiosity that I returned to the same resort two months later - he never asked me to return nor did he know I was going to come back. For all he knew, I was another chica that got away before he could work his Cuban charm on me. In retrospect, maybe he already did.