Update: Keeping it Weird

Three months… three months and everything is so different. After I met up with Dom for coffee I sent him a message to thank him for giving me a little bit of his time, he never wrote back. Somehow I was glad and appreciated that he didn’t reply. I liked that he didn’t string me along into what could have been another emotional cyclone. Although I still had so much more I had to say to him, I was happy for the time we got together. Weirdly enough it was the closer that I needed. I think because above all, I know for sure that he is happy.

With having that in mind I packed my bags and booked a flight. portlandI needed to clear my head and I knew I would find peace with my sister in Portland. Little did I know that it would only add more confusion.

When I had first gone to Portland in 2016 not only did I fall in love with the city, but I fell in like with a man. He was everything I was looking for, besides 500 miles in between us. He was older, had lived life, educated, handsome, wanted children, and he was extremely charming. Time stood still. I don’t know if it was because I was in a new city but with him, everything felt more magical. More than ever I wanted to make Portland my new home, I just needed to make a few more arrangements and then a move to Portland would be final. I had already  gone back to work at Express, to make a transition that would make a move a lot more easier. He was showing me what my life in Portland could be like. The night ended after he dropped me off at the door with a simple kiss on the cheek. Respectful, but he left me knowing I was interested.

Once back home we texted back and forth for the next year but decided to keep it just friendly because of distance. He wanted me to live life to make sure that he was what I wanted when I got to Portland. Everything was going according to plan until I decided to make a change in my career. I had gotten a job in optometry. With this new job I would have to stay put for another two years in Reno.

As soon as I landed in Portland I messaged him letting him know that I was in town. within seconds he responded, “I can’t wait to see you.” Due to opposite schedules we finally met up on my last night there. When we did, it was as if a whole year hadn’t passed by. night portlandThe only thing that was different is that we were both older and wiser. If he wanted me to live life… well I had done so since I last saw him. Our 2 hour time slot for that night had easily became  6 hours spent together. Between drinks, dinner, a show and a tour around town… we lost track of time. I needed more time I didn’t want the night to end but I knew my sister would start getting worried and I needed to catch a flight back early the next morning. This time at good bye, I received a real kiss. A kiss that was full of wants, needs and passion. The kiss was perfect, but perfect didn’t take away from the fact that we still had ANOTHER year we would have to wait before we could still be together.

I am scheduled to go back to Portland in March for my sisters birthday. I am ecstatic as can be because every time I go back, I fall in love with the city even more. That is where my heart is. The culture, mystery, the sites, the atmosphere, I love it all however my heart is not with Patrick anymore. I have a boyfriend who I fall for more and more each day here in Reno… my current home.

To Be Continued.



Some Things Never Change

I clenched my cup of coffee hard with both hands in hopes that my hands will stop shaking, and I take a look at the time on my phone. 9:03

“Breath Miguel, remember you wanted this”, I tellcoffee myself wishing my nerves would calm down. You see, although it’s autumn and it’s chilly, I am not shaking because I’m cold. I’m shaking because anytime now, He should be walking through the doors of the coffee shop. He, the one that stole my heart, He who broke it into a million pieces… He my first love. I look down at my phone again, 9:04. What? It feels like I have been waiting for an hour. But it’s my fault for wanting to show up early to order my coffee and find a spot where I would feel comfortable.  I wanted to find a place in the café where I could feel like I had home advantage.

I looked up and there he was, all 5 feet and 10 inches of him. Besides his wild crazy longer hair that he wore now, everything about him looked the same including that charmingly devious smile. A smile that lit up the room. He walked over dropped his messenger bag on the stool next to me and gave me a hug and then went to go order his drink.

For an hour we caught up talking about our family, where we were in life and some funny memories we experienced. And then with a pat on the back he asked “So are you dating anyone?” The question took me but surprise but I remembered how bold he was, almost without a filter.  Out of panic I did what I do best and made a joke out of it,

“Nope, single for life. Just being a strong independent woman”.

“Really? Me too”.

“So I heard”.

He was confused on how I knew and I explained to him how an old coworker of mine had met him at a birthday dinner. While they were talking my name came and once they found that connection they talked up a storm, leading to the discussion of the recent brake up with his boyfriend. “Well… I guess new travels fast.”

I looked away for a moment just because my head started to produce hundreds of questions, at a million miles per hour. Why the interest in wanting to know if I was dating? What did the pat in the back mean? Why would he tell me that he was single too? Did he think it was worth cheating on me with him? Why did they break up?

“DO NOT over think it”, I told myself. Although I desperately want to know all those answers I didn’t ask any of them, especially that last one. I don’t know how long I looked away for but when I turned around he gave me a look and asked, “What”?

“Nothing” and I gave him a cheesy smile.

Often times when I date, I will compare guys to him. In fact I used to compare Jesse a lot to Dom because they were complete opposites, besides the fact that they are complete white washed Mexicans. Even more that I am. Shamefully, I will admit I’ll most likely continue to compare any guy to him. Because I do so, my friends will ask me, if given the chance would I get back together with him? My answer is simple: No. We dated five years ago. We are both two different people than what we were back then. He had just turned 21 and I was 23. He still had growing up to do and I was in that weird limbo space feeling. I was sheltered and naïve, not having experience love. Although I will always love Dom…  he is a different person today than the person whom I fell in love with. Even the fact that the person whom I fell in love with, would have of never cheated on me. After Dom and Jesse, I know what I want, need, and deserve. We’re two different people, or so I think.

The truth is, he still lights up my world. He still makes me laugh with all the things he says. He is still the person that will ask you how your day is going and will genuinely want to know.  He still is an adventure seeker, wanting to know about the world around him. He still orders his coffee black… just like he used to when we were together.

We talked for a few more minutes then I needed to meet up with my parents and he needed to get to work. He walked me out and we gave each other another hug. There was no “Call me” or “I’ll text you” just a smile and a sweet “Bye”.  I’m sincerely okay with that. Although I have all these new questions floating, that is who I am: Always wanting answers so I can see black and white. Always getting myself into these awkward weird situations by knocking on doors that probably should be left alone but always end up learning something.  I am the same person that gets lost in my own thoughts that don’t make sense. Does that make sense? Two… ten years for now, whether I am happily married with children or still single traveling the world, I not be in love him but I will always love him. Not because he was my first love, but because some things never change.

Your Geek In Chic


Man in the Mirror 

man mirror

I’ve seen him around, he is taller, slimmer, seems to light up the room when he walks in. I’ve seen him in my old lover’s arms. I’d like to say that I am envious, but in reality, my heart is cheering them on. How can I be envious when all I’ve wanted was for him to be happy?

I won’t deny that it’s a slap that I wasn’t the one that found love after the split. I’ve put myself out there and dated. However nothing has clicked for me. Am I jaded? I take look into the mirror. Nope definitely not jaded. I see that light of hope and forever love in my eyes. I even see a twinkle in my smile. And no, I am not conceited. I am however the kid that believes in a happily ever after. The guy that hang up the moon when you need it the most. I am the man you can come home to.

If you to asked me a year and a half a go if I thought I was this man… I would have said yes, but with the biggest doubt. I know that I have so much love to give but as I have experienced, sometimes love isn’t enough. My biggest demon traps me into a corner and I am faced with believing that I am not good enough. ENOUGH! As cheesy as it sounds, I needed this last year for myself and discover who I am and discover the man I always wanted to be. To shine a light on my darkest fears and defeat them. I’ve said this once and I will say it again, before you can let anybody love you, you have to love yourself.

As I write this, I am at a bar, by myself, and see how far I have come. Never in a million years would I have imagined myself here. Not content with myself, but proud of the man that I am, ecstatic even. I am joyous at the fact that I can raise my glass at a man whom I loved so much and his new partner. Wish them the best because happiness is what he deserves. It’s what EVERYONE deserves in fact.

I think back to the day of my best friend’s wedding day. Although everybody’s love is different, he has paved the way on how love is supposed to be like. I will not settle for someone who does not meet the expectations of my heart. The heart that was shattered into a million pieces and has taken me forever to put back together. With cracks and scars I have to remember that it is still whole and I have a lot to be thankful for. A lot includes, being able to let him move on, letting myself move on without any grudges or resentment. I am able to move on and not feel guilty for being happy.

I’ve seen him around. I’ve seen him stare back at me. While I know I might not be as tall or thin, or as smart as the other guy I have seen, I know I am a beautiful soul.

Your truly,

The Geek in Chic

Sleeping with the Enemy


Autumn, it would be a little bit of an understatement if I told you that it’s my favorite part of the year. The colors, the scarves, the adventures in pumpkin patches, the hot coco, I’m in love with it all. With Fall, comes the cooler weather and today it’s making it really difficult to make it out of bed. Five more Minutes, I tell myself, but I know that I will be here much longer than that.

A few weeks ago I had gone back home to visit my family. Normally when I go back, I stay in my sister’s room so we can catch up  and watch movies. This time, by the time the second film started playing, Samantha was knocked out. 2:30 a.m rolled around and I was still wide awake, not sleepy at all. It didn’t help that the room was too hot so I tossed and turned even more. I needed out. I grabbed my pillow and blanket, and headed towards the living room. Once I got there I noticed that Mom was sleeping on the couch. I wondered what she was doing out there, but I covered her with my blanket and sat on the floor next to her.

My Mother, so beautiful, strong and inspiring, she has been my biggest hero. I looked at hermom and could see the light wrinkles she has gotten over the years. The very wrinkles that told the stories of her joys, struggles, laughs, tears, and accomplishments. “Silly Mom what are you doing out here?” And then it hit me that Papa wasn’t home yet.

For the last four years, Papa has been working in the mines and this week he was working nights. I looked at Mom once more and laughed to myself “Well I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree after all.” 

I though about how  after Jesse and I broke up, I wasn’t able… I couldn’t sleep in my bed. For three whole months I slept on the couch because I couldn’t deal with the pain of not having him there right next to me. I would turn over expecting to see his resting face, instead I found an empty space… a pillow that had been untouched.  It was weird but on the couch I didn’t feel lonely… as empty as Jesse’s side of the bed was.While I could no longer be in Jesse’s arms, I was cuddled by my couch.

Every so often when I watch a movie and pass out, or when I come home tipsy, the first place I go to is the couch.   When I wake up to find myself sleeping on my bed again.. I wondered how for three months, I was afraid to do that. Now seeing my Mom a woman that is sooo independent on the couch, I realize that it is better to be sleeping alone congested than sleeping with the enemy…Emptiness.

Emptiness has a way of making you believe that you are more alone than you really are even in a place where you can all home. Emptiness is a great enemy, but after 11 months of being single I can pretty much say I have conquered it. I just have to make sure that I sleep right in the middle of the bed. I’m Kidding. It is nice though, to not have to cry or think about THAT person when you’re in bed.

I will not lie to you and tell you that the only thing Jesse left empty is his side of the bed. He left a large part of my heart empty… but I think I did that for him as well. I believe however that we have both learned to fill that emptiness with the love of friends and family,new adventures we experience in our lives. I think that if my heart was still empty I would not be able to forgive and laugh as I do now.

Thanks Mom, for showing me how to be strong and how to forgive. Thank you for giving me one of the biggest lessons in life without meaning to… not allowing myself to be consumed in my heart… or in bed by emptiness.

Your Geek in Chic


The Rest Is Still Unwritten.



If you were ask my fiends to describe me, they would say that I’m as clumsy, loyal, that I have a contagious dorky laugh, I am way too caring, shamefully… somewhat of a princess (it’s not my fault that I know what I want), and that I have a little ADHD problem. Okay who am I kidding, I have a big attention problem. If there were to be a poster child for ADHD… I’d be it, so when I started this blog three years ago I had no idea where this would end up. What I did know that this would be my safe haven. At times (most of the time), it feels as though my thoughts are racing by at 100 miles per hour in my head. Unable to focus and feeling tremendously flustered, it’s nice to write down a thought and see it still, unable to zoom by and be forgotten. It brings peace to mind.

A blog that first began about fashion and adventures with the man I thought was the love of my life, soon became a place where I could release. In writing was my therapeutic outlet.   I was able to write my thoughts, move sentences around to where they made sense. I felt like I had a voice that wasn’t being heard before.

Last night I finally agreed to meet a guy off of Tinder for coffee. He had been flying in and out of town for work so we had been talking for a while but hadn’t had the chance to meet. We made a connection because he was also a writer. None of my friends write, so it was nice to sit and pick at each other’s brain.

I am talking a sip of my Lavender Chai Latte’ when he asked “Why do you think we write?” I wanted to IMG_0178tell him that I have issues and writing was my therapy, but I dug deeper. Why do I write…why does anyone really write? Do to my ADHD I started to think about my life and where it’s going. Even though I am happy and content I am nowhere near the life plans I made 5 years ago. Maybe I had high expectations for me back then, but it’s not as if I am settling. I finally had an answer.

“I believe we write to tell our untold story. The story we long for… the story we believe we deserve. I think that writers want their happily ever after and so we write to find and experience it.”

I may not write fiction and write about happily ever after, nor am I writing about the adventures that I have with a man whom I love, but I hope that I will find my truth… my real life ever after. Truth is whether you are a writer or not, everyone is the writer of their own story. No one could tell you who to be or who to have in your life to create you story, even though you will have some villains along the way.  

I just celebrated 27th birthday. Even though I feel I am a middle-aged man, I know I still have so much to tell and write. It’s up to us to live and write our own story.  

Your Geek in Chic,


P.S. Thank you for following me on my crazy journey.






ChangesTime changes everything except something within us, which is always surprised by change.                                                                                                                                                            –Thomas Hardy

I take one last look of myself in the mirror before I head out the door. I have a date tonight, and the amount of emotions I have in me make me feel… appreciative. As I see my reflection, I see how much I have changed. Time in general has changed.

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Exactly one year ago today I met a boy who I instantly knew was going to impact my life forever. We met up for coffee, the following day we went on an actual first date, and by the third day we were on our way to San Francisco. Gay marriage had just become legalized, neither one of us had been to a pride, so we knew that we had to go and be part of this time in our lives. I celebrated an amazing part of the LGBT history, I also celebrated knowing that I would be falling in love with this kid.

Today I gladly have a new wrinkle or two on my face, am loved greatly by my friends, and I’m boyfreindless. A love once so bright no longer exists. But what hurts me most of all today, is the heaviness in my heart by knowing what happed in Orlando. 49 nine people dead?

What, what is going through all the victim’s friends and family member’s minds?

Why, why did he do this?

How, how can someone be so heartless with people who just want to be loved?

When, when will the hate stop?

A week after the Orlando shootings and being silent, I found myself crying to my best friend. I was scared and I could no longer hold it in. I have been having these dreams, nightmares about being trapped inside of Pulse with the other victims. I imagine being shot and seeing the faces of those whom I love. My mom’s, sister’s, my friend’s… Jesse’s face. I pray, hoping that I don’t die having Jesse thinking that I hate him. I don’t want him to think that everything that we went through was for nothing. I don’t want to die and have him doubt that I ever did love him… or that I still don’t. The same goes with other people in my life that I let go. Anna, and Jay. While we have parted and gone our own separate ways, that doesn’t mean that I don’t wish them well.

I’m scared, not of what can happen to me but I am scared for my family. For the pain I know my love ones would be going through. I am scared to think that everything that past LGBT activist have done, was worth nothing. Something has got to change this.

I will be completely honest, I have never been a great fan of change, but as I look into the mirror I decide that I will be the revolution. I have cried and had many sleepless nights, blaming myself for something that was not entirely my fault. People grow apart, people fall out of love, unfortunately Jesse gave up. Just because that happens, that doesn’t mean I should be closed off to other people. I understand that now, so I will allow my heart to forgive. Forgive Jesse, forgive Anna and Jay, forgive myself.  I will allow myself to open up my heart and enjoy the company of a man that makes me feel so alive and carefree. Now whether or not things go anywhere with this guy, time will only tell. One thing is for sure though, I am throwing all expectations out the window. Emotions change, the heart changes, so I cannot hold him or myself or accountable for the feelings we are feeling presently.

With a changed heart I refuse to be scared. I will not let the hate of others take back what we have fought so hard for… our freedom to be whomever we want, and love whom the heart loves. Love then, now and tomorrow will always prevail. 

Love Always Your Geek in Chic,





Nothing Compares


“Thanks for coming over. Text me as soon as you get home?”  He asked as he walked me towards my car. I turned around and faced him. His gleaming eyes, so big and gentle looked right at me with hope. His crooked smile make me feel so welcomed every single time.

“Sure, and thanks again for dinner. It was amazing.” I answered back. With that he leaned in for a kiss. First on my forehead, then finding his way to my lips. I could still taste the wine on his lips, and for a split second my knees went weak. When he pulled away he opened the door and kissed my forehead again once I was settled inside. As I drove off I could still see his reflection through my rear view mirror. He stood there until I was out of his sight.mirror

“Hold it in”, I tell myself but it’s already too late. I can feel my cheek getting wet as a tear rolls down my face. I could feel my heart getting heavier, and it makes it a little hard to breath. All of a sudden I loose the little self-control that I do have and I start to cry. “I don’t want this. He is not him.”

How can I feel this way about a guy who has been nothing but amazing to me over the last three weeks? How can I feel so empty when he still manages to make me laugh and makes me feel wanted once again. This man… could capture a million stars for me so I could call them my own,  yet I am pulled and I think about the ways that he doesn’t compare to Jesse.

You would think that after five months I would have gotten over him. You would think that I would have dusted him off me, ran and never looked back. Yet I feel like he is still running right beside me, and somehow I know that I will never see him again.

Don’t ruin this Miguel.” I hear my inner voice tell me. However my inner heart tells me, “Let the guy go”. Let him go because you can’t lie to him. You can’s be with him… settle for him, because you know that he wont hurt you. You cant be with him and think of Jesse whenever he kisses you. You can’t be with him because even though his smile makes you feel welcomed to him, its not the same smile that made you feel safe, wanted, carefree, loved.

I then hate  myself for not allowing this man try to fill in the pieces that left a hole within me, but I know it wouldn’t be right. It would be like putting back the pieces back on a broken mirror. Just because someone sounds good on paper doesn’t mean that they are meant for you. You shouldn’t have to compare then people you love.


Your Geek in Chic,