A brief history of the first time Fernando and I met. Photo Credit: Emily Sakamoto ’16
This is the story of how my life came the closest it’s ever been to Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, complete with a spunky but naive American, a suffering artist-stereotype of a human, and how a textbook romance turned into emotional manipulation.
My friends have heard this story once already. My good friends have heard it at least three times. My friends from abroad witnessed it. But I probably haven’t told you yet. It’s a good one.
Let me tell you about this guy. You won’t believe he exists. Hell, I was certain he was a figment of my imagination for the entirety of our fling. But this is 100% true.
***This article discusses emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, and toxic relationships.***