The Wine Bar, my moonlighting gig, employs three young men from Mexico, and since I took four years of French and one semester of Italian –because heaven forbid I take the path that is beneficial and practical in the real world –the language barrier is somewhat problematic. 

The Sous Chef has the highest comprehension of English, and, probably not coincidentally, the one with whom I am closest.  Not that we’re that close –our interactions usually consist of tripping each other.  Mature, no?  He likes to drink beer and play the game, with his girlfriends young in age and numerous in quantity.  As I have never met a player whom I trust, I usually just fall blindly, I am always surprised when this one knows the heart so well. 

I had a minor breakdown on Saturday, the uninvited and disabling tears came right before my work shift. The previous evening I went to the bar with friends, thinking friends were exactly what I needed, but, unfortunately, the friends that were adamant of my attendance were The Kid From Boston’s college roommates.  Without his contribution and presence, the dynamic was … off, and I felt it completely. 

When I arrived at The Wine Bar, twenty minutes late, my swollen and red eyes reminiscent of those derived from the college days’ copious amounts of pot, my boss gave the half-laugh, “Whats wrong with you?” Thankfully, everyone else left me alone.

Except The Sous Chef.

He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder and asked if I, amiga, was ok.

I said I missed the asshole from Boston even after all this time.  And today was just a bad day. 

He quietly looked at me, not with pity that I was unable to get over someone but with compassion. 

“I think that you feel something … big.  And that is special  Not many people feel something big.

“You need to learn that no one is more special than yourself.  You don’t work tomorrow?  That is muy mal because you need to stay busy always.  Maybe if you find someone new it will help, but I don’t know, right now, it is trouble.”  He then started to laugh.  Big Trouble. 

Which were some of the most comforting words I have heard.  He didn’t try to fix it, he didn’t offer his story of heartbreak, he just validated the relationship.  We did have something big.  Something special.  And it’s going to hurt and be big trouble because of that.  Since that conversation, I have been breathing easier, the pressure has lessened.  I can continue to work on getting over him, but I don’t need to rush it.  Because special takes time.

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