Tuesday, May 13th, 2024. 5:45pm.
I was at the gym, pretending I was the fittest guy alive… Well, actually, I had already finished exercising and was just lying down, getting a massage. (Fake it till you make it, right?)
Then the thought hit me: text Virgo. Yeah, that’s what I call him. Why? Because he’s a Virgo… original, I know.
“Hey, I’m going to be at Sunset Beach tonight. It’d be nice if you came,” I texted.
I waited for his reply, checking every two minutes — No response.
So… maybe not. Maybe he doesn’t like me, or maybe he has a boyfriend, or he is not interested, or I’m not his type… Sh*t, why did I invite him?
(I was raised watching Mexican telenovelas… of course I gotta be dramatic).

But let’s rewind. Where did Virgo even come from?
LGBTQ+ soccer league, summer season in Vancouver. I’m a goalkeeper — which is basically a full-time job of trying not to get distracted by hot, sweaty guys. And then he appeared. He had missed the first two games, but when he finally showed up, I swear I thought: “All my life, I’ve been good, but now… wow.”
Virgo: cliché perfection. White, blonde, blue eyes, toned, 5’5, killer smile. He was like a rom-com character who accidentally got dropped into my real life.

But back to the story: still no reply from him. 
I tell myself, “Relax, he’s busy. Don’t be dramatic…” (too late).
Finally, after an hour and a half, when I had already given up all hope, a text from him: “Hey, sorry, I just saw this. It would have been nice, I guess it’s too late now. But I see you’ve got a beer and chips.”
With revived hope, I tried again: “I’ll be here until sunset if you want to come.”
And he says: “Ok then. See you in a bit.” (*Cue me pulling out a bridal veil*).

Ten minutes later, there he was — short shorts, tote bag, hat, the full “West End summer chic” look. He hugged me, we talked, and then… he took off his shirt, and asked me to rub sunscreen on his back. Sunscreen. On. His. Back.
(That’s when my brain said nothing, because my heart was screaming too loud.)
We talked for hours. About life. About love. About what makes us happy. And then watched the sun say goodbye to us, lighting up the ocean, painting the sky orange, red, and pink. 
I looked at Virgo and saw the sun lighting his face. He was smiling, and I was just happy… I was very happy.
It was my first sunset of summer 2024… but in my mind, it was our first sunset.

Photoshoots and Minions:
We both love acting, and I had just started doing background work, so I offered to take some shots for his profile. On our second date, we wandered the West End, doing a photoshoot: changing outfits, laughing, joking… He told me about his family, where he is from in Canada. I told him about my hometown and its traditions, my friends, my family. 
Have you ever felt that connection when someone looks at you and smiles? You know that look, right? The one that says more than words ever could? Yeah, that one. He was looking at me like that the whole time.

On our third date, we watched Despicable Me. Not exactly the most romantic choice, but trust me, the way we laughed together and looked at each other was romantic. 
After the theatre, we walked the seawall, talking about our lives, and I realized that we were very similar in how we viewed things: commitment, friendships, relationships, work, the future. I discovered Virgo has a beautiful heart and cares about others. That he cares about his own mental health and is working towards his future. I was slowly falling in love with him. He was the guy I had been waiting for, for a long time.

The Ocean and the River :
Days later, we found ourselves back at Sunset Beach.
No kisses. No hug. But music, songs, secrets, glances… We told each other some personal stories that have changed our lives, that have made us cry, grow, smile, laugh. And me, lying there thinking: This is something I haven’t felt in years. 
He was playing Avril Lavigne songs: “That’s whyyy I smile, it’s been a while… Suddenly, you’re the reason I-I-I-I smile. I smile.”

But here’s the catch: When we were together, it was magical. When we weren’t? Silence. No texts. Being left on read. It made me feel confused, frustrated, and sad. I didn’t want what had happened before in my life to happen again. Not with him. I was hoping this would be different.

So I kept planning the next move, the next excuse to see him. Still clinging to the idea that this was real.
“Let’s go for a swim on Friday,” I texted.
He responded: “Yeah! Let’s bike Stanley Park, and end at Third Beach.”
I told myself: this time, HE has to text first. Friday comes. Noon. Nothing. So I give up, shower, and decide to go solo… when my phone lights up:
“Hey, a friend from Australia is in town, we’re going to Lynn Canyon for a swim. Wanna come?”
Of course I went. And again — with him, everything felt amazing. His friends were late, and Virgo and I had a great time. There were many people around us, but it was only Virgo and me that mattered, sitting on a rock, under the sun, having a beer. When my Converse fell in the water and got soaked, we joked about it, and laughed. We laughed a lot together.
We swam to the falls in freezing river, and he lent me his goggles so I could see what was under the water. Lots of fishes, lots of nature.
But just the two of us… No one else.

Truth:
The following Wednesday, a soccer game. I got injured — bad. I tore my ACL, and limped off the field, helped by teammates. Other soccer guys came up to me to ask how I was, what happened, if I was ok. But Virgo: he kept watching the game, and never came to check on me.
And right there, I knew. Maybe it was never real for him. Maybe it was only real in my head. So I stopped. No more texts. No more plans. I decided to move on, and start healing. It was the very first time I cried for him. It was my breakup.

We reconnected in December, because life literally put him on my way — twice. First, he started going to the same gym as me. Then, we both started working on the same film… We were together the whole day. So I thought life telling me: ”try again.”
I asked him out again. We went to the movies, and we went to see the Christmas lights at Stanley Park. How romantic. But then, the same story… No texts. Being left on read. One sided.

Four months later, I received a text from him. Not “hi.” Not “how are you.”
A favour. He wanted me to be his reference for a job. And you know what? I said yes. He got the job, and to thank me, he invited me to dinner. But this time, I was done lying to myself.
“Thanks for the invite,” I wrote back, “but I’m gonna be honest. I have feelings for you. Every time we hung out, I felt like there was something more… and I don’t want to confuse myself again.”
To be honest, I felt such a relief to say what I was feeling. To finally put myself first. End of story. Fin del cuento.

Summer gave me sunsets, laughter, and a boy named Virgo. But it also taught me: sometimes, what feels like a love story, is just a beautiful illusion.
After all, I’m happy because after years of being afraid, of running away from guys, I finally decided to give myself another chance to love. To put my heart out there and try. 
Maybe it didn’t end as I wished, but I’m glad it happened, because I will always have that first sunset as one of the most beautiful memories of Vancouver.