"...and, I’m definitely going to get laid," I stated confidently to one of my therapists. Yes, one of two. The irony of having two therapists six months into my C-PTSD— or "P-Tizzle Dizzle," as my teenage son and I jokingly refer to my diagnosis— is laughable, especially considering that in my first therapy session, I had boldly proclaimed we needed to unravel 18 years of undiagnosed PTSD in 90 days.
After a year I believed to be marked by extreme burnout from taking on too much with my business, which happened to be thriving, I hit a breaking point. This breaking point turned out to be the beginning of a breakthrough, but that's a story for another day.
I was on a mission during my month in Portugal, after a year of celibacy and prioritizing my healing during C-PTSD therapy. I didn’t realize how ready I was, until I laid eyes on Pepe.
I strolled through picturesque downtown Lisbon, with its distinctive yellow Pombaline architecture contrasting sharply against a perfect late spring afternoon.
Waves crashed against the sea wall on my left, and bright 18th-century buildings popped against the bright blue skies on my right. I was headed to a meetup for nomading entrepreneurs later that evening and decided to stop for a late afternoon drink before the event.
I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going, only that I was planning to make a leisurely pit stop at a downtown bar. As I followed the sidewalk, it suddenly ended, revealing the stunning Ribeira Das Naus - Quiosque, a breathtaking promenade where the river meets the sea, with only the crisp white sails and Lisbon’s golden gate bridge breaking the horizon.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I was hypnotized by the sunset rays of gold and orange reflecting and sparkling on the water. Nothing could break my gaze in that mome....
“Ola.”
I jumped, my deep thought interrupted. My P-Tizzle response to surprises is a symptom I’m still adjusting to. Mid-jump, I turned to see—wow. The most piercing blue-green eyes peering into mine against his golden-tanned skin.
Something indistinguishable in Portuguese snapped me back to reality.
“Oh, I’m American. Ugh, that sounded so pretentious.” He smiled, probably noticing me stumbling over my words. Oh God, his smile was gorgeous too. Am I sweating? What is happening? I’m never nervous flirting with men.
“I love America, I lived in San Diego for a few years... can I get you a drink? We can keep staring at the view in these loungers if you like.”
“Umm... yeah sure, but I have an event I’m going to soon,” I said, setting a safety net in case I needed an out. As intently I had thought about indulging at the dick buffet on this trip, I had to admit... I was not prepared for Pepe.
As we took our seats, I now noticed his arms in his unassuming T-shirt. He looked... strong. Oh God. Was he saying something right now? Am I still sweating? I need to get my shit together.
I heard him laugh. Oh, I must’ve said something funny. Jesus, what did I just say? Oh yeah... I forgot I’m pretty good at this.
“So, how long are you here for?” he asked inquisitively. “I’ve been here for about two weeks already, but I’m staying for a month.”
“Hmm. That’s not long enough. We’ve already been here for two hours, and I’m plotting how I can get you to skip your event so I can take you to dinner.”
I looked back at him in disbelief. That can’t be right. We just sat down. I looked at my phone, then out at the horizon, and didn’t even notice the sun had set. I was so fixated on him and taken by our conversation, I had completely lost track of time.
“What event?” I asked slyly.
“Really?” he perked up, “Okay, let’s get you some food then.”
“I’m starving. I haven’t been on a date in a year.” I blurted out.
WHHHYYY, DONNA!!! WHY THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY THAT?!
“Well... I better make sure it’s a good one then.” He didn’t skip a beat.
We happened upon a quaint Italian bistro, laughing and pouring it all out over wine, multiple courses of pasta, and every Italian delicacy of my dreams.
As we left the restaurant, he suggested a walk. Such a simple statement sent a heatwave through my body. “Want to go on a walk?” My heart sank.
I flashed back to my latest heartbreak, long walks were a favorite bonding pastime of mine and my last love's. In my mind, I saw my former flame asking me in his endearing and charming way, but this time...he felt distant. It was like I was seeing the ghost of him. It was almost as if I had dreamt it all, except, I know it’s real because I can still feel the aftershock effects of him.
Noticing my hesitation, Pepe held out his hand to cross the street, “Take my hand, let’s walk.”
A sense of calm washed over me, I took Pepe’s hand and as we crossed over, I stopped and looked up at Pepe and knew that this wasn’t a forever thing but it was a moving forward thing. I pulled him into me and kissed his lips, they were so soft and the thought of my last love faded away as quickly as it hit me.
Not to be all, “and just like that”, but… and just like that, I was moving on.
Our hands still interlocked, he raised our hands from our sides and placed his hands over mine, resting them on his chest.
After a few minutes of intense kissing, Pepe pressed his forehead to mine, kissed my cheek and my forehead, and one final kiss on my lips. We just stood there, a little short of breath from the intensity. In this moment of tension, there was only one thought, of the many running through my head, that I knew for sure…
I am definitely getting laid.
Let’s keep in touch
💛 Follow me: @colourmedonna on Instagram & Twitter/X
👋 Say hey, chit chat, or leave me a hella funny joke in the comments below!
💌 Love me, mean it? Share 'Plot Twisted' with your most unhinged friends and loved ones. They’ll thank you for it... eventually.