Hey Sergio, See You in February

What a handsome man.

The time has come. Sergio is leaving for Afghanistan. And I’m in Lake Powell, thankfully, so I won’t be sobbing at constant rate for 24-48 hours. Or really, he won’t SEE me a sobbing mess. That’s the important part. Don’t let my Sergio see me cry. Who am I kidding, he’s seen me cry a million times. About workouts, about guys, about cellulite. But never about him.

If you haven’t met Sergio yet, you can get to know his personality a bit more in this guest post he wrote up. His post paints a picture of what our relationship is like. We are best friends, we are workout partners, and we are dance soulmates. Those are just facts. Dancing with Sergio on an open dance floor with no one else dancing is exactly what we call a perfect Saturday night. And going to Park Burger for giant burgers and sweet potatoes is what we call a perfect afternoon. We usually don’t ever get sick of each other…and I can be REALLY annoying, so that says something.

Sergio and I met last summer at the old gym we used to workout at. I thought he was a hipster that walked with a swag. I was right about both, but turns out those two things aren’t too bad. He was loud, over the top, and ridiculously, incredibly, fantastically hilarious. I found myself holding my crotch on a daily basis in hopes of not urinating myself in the middle of the gym floor listening to his jokes. But it wasn’t until I decided to join a new gym and told Sergio to come with, that we actually began to hang out and understand how perfect we are for each other.

There are few people in this world that get me. I’m weird. Like weirder than you already think I am after reading this blog. And Sergio is the exact same way, multiplied by 14. So when we get together, magic happens. We tend to make noises that make no sense, say things that make others uncomfortable, and do inappropriate stuff in public places. He somehow treats me like one of the guys while still letting me be a girl. All my guy friends are good at that, but Sergio is the best. He never gets mad, he never gets annoyed, he just stays incredibly patient with me. It’s a gift really.

The thing with Sergio is, even though he may do stupid things like rearrange my bedroom while I’m in the shower or repeatedly do back flips in our back yard after falling on his face multiple times or turn my seat warmer on in the car in the middle of summer, he’s caring, thoughtful, intelligent, and more than anything, he loves life. And he loves everything about it. The people. The scenery. The food. The women, he really loves himself some women. And most of all, the friends he meets along the way.

People, meaning our friends, never really believe us when we say we are just friends. But that’s all we are. We are the closest friends can be of the opposite sex. We don’t ruin it with complicating things. We just 100% care about each other.

I truly believe that we meet very few people in this world that change our lives, that prove to us that life is an amazing gift. And that’s what Sergio has done for me…and many, many other people. He’s taught me to never change, for anyone. This is the only life we have and Sergio soaks up every second of it. Pretty amazing quality.

I love you, Sergio. Your parents have raised one damn fine individual. Gus is the best. Stay safe out there and remember, be yourself. The friends you are about to make along the way are going to be pretty amazing. Afghanistan has no idea what’s coming for them.

I’ll see you in February, Serge. CrossFit Broadway will be waiting for you…and I will be too.