A Taste of Brazil

            Brazil, a magical place where people show their naked bodies with pride. A place where the Portuguese language sounds like a melodious song by every fluent native. The place where a huge party of colors, feathers, exotic dancing, music, and beautiful people come together to show the world the beauties it holds.

            Brazil, a place I have never had the pleasure to visit, but only seen on Google images, YouTube, movies, and television shows. I have only had a small taste of what I believe is Brazil. His name will not be mentioned, only his qualities and features. He took me on a three-month journey to this place of wonder and beauty.

            This tall twenty-four-year-old man with olive skin, big beautiful dark eyes, thick luscious lips, and the sexiest Portuguese I have ever heard, was a piece of Brazil. His tenderness and passion for me, made me feel like a queen deserving every moment this man gave me. He was sweet and funny, charming, and even knew how to bake a few things.

            I met him at a grocery store. I was looking for something, but couldn’t find it. I saw him standing behind the deli area, and asked if he knew where the item could be. He looked at me for a moment, gave me a sexy smile, and told me where to look. I was enchanted. I felt like I knew this person, and felt so comfortable flirting with him.

            I stayed a little longer with the excuse that I was looking for a roommate. He said he probably knew someone, so he asked for my number, and gave me his. We smiled at each other, and I thanked him for everything.

            His smile stuck with me the whole day, and every day until I saw him again. This man was so desirable. I called my boyfriend and broke up with him, as my feelings for this knew individual were too present. I didn’t regret the break-up one bit; I was about to live an experience that I would never forget.

            The experience began two days after I met him. He texted me, and told me he hadn’t found prospective roommates for me. I honestly didn’t care if he did or not; I just wanted to talk to him. He asked what I was doing, and I asked him to visit me.

            He showed up an hour later. Knocked on my door, and I immediately knew it was him. I opened the door, and instead of his face, I saw a bouquet of flowers, and a small box of chocolates in his right hand. He took the bouquet and handed it to me. He took the box of chocolates which were apparently imported, opened it, and asked me to take a bite so that I could taste a piece of his homeland. They were absolutely the most delicious chocolates I had ever tried. I put one in my mouth; the thick chocolate crust crunching as I chewed, then the taste of smooth sweet cream in the middle, was the equivalent (or better) than my first kiss.

            I put the flowers in water, and the chocolates away. He asked me to go with him to a friend’s party. I said yes, without any hint of hesitation.

            We arrived at his friend’s house. His friend was from Colombia, and lived with four others who were from the same place. They had salsa music, Colombian appetizers, and drinks. We danced all night, ate like there was no tomorrow, and drank enough.

            I was so happy to have gone with him. He walked me home. We stood by my door, and reflected on the events of the day. Before I knew it, he kissed me. His kiss was so sweet; his lips so luscious, his breath warm and minty; with a hint of Agua Ardiente, and his passion was more than any I had ever tasted. We said goodnight, and he left.

            The next morning, he showed up at my door with Starbuck’s coffee and a cranberry muffin for me. I was a mess, yet he made me feel beautiful even then. He looked at me just like the first day, and I felt so comfortable with him. I got dressed, and we went for a walk around a pond near my apartment. We paused for a moment, looked at each other, and he asked if I would be his girlfriend. My heart pounded so fast and loud, I couldn’t hear myself think, but I didn’t have to think much to say yes.

            He kissed me, and held me tight. Then we started to walk again. That night I went to his house to watch a Brazilian movie, Cidade de Deus (City of God). He baked a Brazilian pastry called Pao de Queijo (cheese filled mini rolls), opened a bottle of red wine, and put together a little dish presentation just for me.

            I felt so special. I was so happy with this guy I barely knew. I broke-up with my boyfriend of three years, to be with this amazing guy I had just met a few months ago. I had no regrets; nothing to worry about, as this guy had feelings for me, just like I did for him. Everything could not have been more perfect.

            Everything was too good to be perfect. One day he called me to tell me that his ex-girlfriend was moving from Brazil to the U.S. He told me she was his first love, and he never stopped loving her. I knew exactly what this meant.

            He said he wanted us to still be friends, a phrase so commonly known as a pathetic alternative to just dumping someone and getting on with life. I had no desire to be friends with this guy I came to like very much.

            I say like because I wasn’t in love. The relationship with him was so surreal, I can only believe it was lust. But it was a beautiful experience; unlike any I had ever lived.

            He gave me a taste of Brazil for a few months. I let him borrow my heart until he reunited with his love. I have no regrets, mostly wonderful memories from what has been.