It’s June 2022, and I am in Portland, Oregon. I just completed a month-long volunteer program on an organic livestock farm and feel sad to leave. Being on the farm was one of the best experiences of my life, and I plan to remain friends with the farmers forever. That said, I have no idea what I will do next. I scan the map for the next farm and head to a hostel downtown. In the last few weeks, I have been on a dive bar tour around Portland, and I feel like I’m starring in a television show. On my days off I would leave the farm and party with new people I met out and about. I have been to six bars so far and the experience is so Portlandia.

At one of the first bars on my list I was introduced to the drink special called “black and blues”. This deal includes a tall boy of local beer and a shot of whiskey. When I asked the bartender how the drink got its name, he laughed and said, “It’s simple: if you drink enough of these, you will be black and blue by the night’s end.” I found this amusing and took heed. I sat at the bar with local Portlanders. One of them bought me a drink, flipped me off, and said, “Fuck you! Welcome to Portland.”

The following weekend, I ended up at another dive downtown. When I approached the bar, a gentleman asked me if I like live music. I replied, “Sure,” and he invited me to follow him to the back patio. As I walked outside, I was welcomed to a birthday party, complete with a man in a kilt playing the bagpipes. I listened, laughed, had cake and drinks, and met new friends. It felt like I was in a movie.

Though I was sad to leave my first day off the farm, I was excited to see what was next for me. With mixed emotions, I headed to my next dive. I walked into a bar in the Hawthorne district called Bar of the Gods and ordered a whiskey. I met new friends and cute dogs and stayed for about an hour. Just as I was about to pay my tab, a friendly group of Mexicans walked into the bar. I pulled my card back and said, “I’ll stay.” I watched the guys enter, and a handsome man approached me. Was it fate? Lust at first sight? I’m not sure. But I decided to let him buy me a drink.

We went outside to the back patio and started drinking and smoking cigarettes. The only time I want to smoke is when alcohol is involved. I told him about myself, where I was from, and how I had just finished working on a farm. He looked at me and said, “Can I be honest with you?” I replied, “Yes, go ahead.” He told me he was at the end of his rope. He had just gone through a horrible breakup a couple of months back and was feeling lower than low. A few tears rolled down his face.

Instantly, I was attracted to his honesty. We continued to chat as the rain began to fall. He looked at me, grabbed my hand, and kissed me. I was surprised but welcomed the attention and kissed him back. He said, “I am so damn bored of my life.” I laughed, told him to pay the tab, and said, “Get in my car. You will never be bored again!”

We climbed into my corolla and I drove him around the city, blasting music and laughing. He got very nervous, repeatedly making the cross sign with his hand. I asked him, “Why the hell are you doing that?” He looked at me and screamed that he was terrified, and said that’s what Mexicans do. I continued to laugh and yelled, “You’re not bored anymore, are you?” He smiled in response. I pulled over the car on a side street, jumped on top of him, and we hooked up. I always test drive on the first night to see if I want to lease or own, and I knew I wanted to own him.

In the past, people would ask me about the honeymoon phase in my relationships, and I would find this hysterical. I explained that there is no honeymoon phase with me; it is a stress test: like can you handle my bipolar ass or not? My new guy, Edgard, could handle me, and I loved it. We partied like rock stars over the following nights and got to know each other. We both loved to drink, and smoke weed and we got twisted every night.

After a week, things became serious quickly. We were both scared as hell. He had a broken heart, and so did I. One of the reasons I left Denver for Portland was that my ex had stomped on my heart and crushed it to pieces. I had planned to be single and farm my way around America. They say real love finds you when you’re not looking, which proved true for us. I knew I had to trust Edgard, and he had to trust me. He took a giant leap, and after a week of knowing each other, he invited me to move in with him and his friend. I said yes.

When I first met my new boyfriend, it began as a drunken fling. Before our third date, I sent him a sexy nude picture, but instead of reacting with excitement, he asked me why I did that. At that moment, I realized that I had been focused on being sexual for so long that I had forgotten what it felt like to be treated with respect. I decided to stop seeking cheap thrills and concentrate on building something real.

Throughout my life, I have been very sexually active, primarily to gain attention and avoid vulnerability. In the past, people wondered if I was a sex addict because of my hundreds of one-night stands, but I was simply numbing myself in any way I could. The truth is I have never experienced an orgasm from sex until I felt safe with my current partner. My previous relationships were unhealthy because I was unhealthy, but meeting Edgard felt like an opportunity for something genuine. He is the first person who doesn’t want superficial bullshit; he appreciates me for who I am on a deep level. Finally I was done playing games and using men for money. Instead it was time to grow up, work hard, be independent, and build something meaningful together.

The next few months were incredibly challenging. 8 weeks after we met, I had my first full-blown manic episode in August, which required hospitalization. The experience traumatized me, and I felt numb, wanting to hurt myself. I almost crashed my car one night and even tried to throw myself under moving vehicles. I experienced amphetamine psychosis and suffered a nasty concussion. I terrified him, but he wanted to help me instead of running away. It took months to get better, and he truly saved my life. Edgard was scared but stood by my side, which I couldn’t believe. He was truly a keeper.

By winter, I had stabilized when my next challenge arose. We had been partying a lot, and I decided to do dry January and take a break from drinking. We had been spending too much money going out and jeopardizing our health with cancerous booze. I invited him to join me for acupuncture and told the acupuncturist about my plan. She looked at me and said I should aim for more than dry January since my liver was swollen.

This terrified me, and I knew I needed to stop poisoning myself with alcohol. Both my parents were alcoholics, and I had been a heavy binge drinker for most of my life. My dad died from alcohol-related issues, and I still remember his advice he gave me in my early twenties: “You better be careful, girl; you only get so many chances.” At 25, I took a four-year break from drinking, but I had resumed for the past couple of years. While my behavior had improved, I knew deep down that I needed to quit for good. Fortunately, my partner was supportive, and we both decided to stop drinking and work on building a stronger bond.

We got to know each other on a deeper level. As we cut alcohol from our lives, our relationship grew stronger and more vulnerable. We needed to be honest with each other. He shared his experiences about his abusive, alcoholic father, and I opened up about my own alcoholic parents and my bipolar disorder, including the difficult things I’ve done. It wasn’t easy, but we needed to move forward and find peace. I started writing about my traumatic experiences on my blog, and he began going to therapy for the first time. I joined him, and together we worked through so much, becoming a power couple.

As we sobered up, we began to take breaks from weed, too. He had been smoking since he was 13, while I had been smoking for about eight years. As we shed our addictions, our bond grew stronger and more beautiful. We shared tears and laughter and learned to heal together. We became obsessed with our health and fitness, getting into the best shape of our lives. We ran, hit the gym, lifted weights, and pushed ourselves hard. We improved our diets, hydration, and physical activity, achieving our weight loss goals and feeling great. He is the first person who knows all parts of me and wants to grow together instead of apart.

Just when we thought we were at our healthiest, tragedy struck. In February 2024, as we approached our year-and-a-half mark, the unthinkable happened. My boyfriend had just returned home from washing his car when he began to slur his words and lose motor function. I immediately recognized that he was having a stroke. I called 911, terrified. While he was in the ambulance, they fought to save his life. He flatlined, died, experienced a near-death experience, and then came back—it was a miracle.

In addition to the stroke, he experienced a seizure and significant brain bleeding. It took six hours to stabilize him. Eventually, I was allowed into his room, and it was terrifying to see him unconscious with tubes and cords everywhere – He was unresponsive and breathing with a ventilator. I began singing in Spanish and rubbing his face. After five minutes, he opened his eyes. However, when he returned, his left side was completely paralyzed. He could barely speak, eat, or move on his own. This was the scariest experience of my life.

I had so many questions: Will he regain his functions? Will he be able to walk again? Will he be able to work? Can he drive again? Will he be able to fuck the shit out of me? Everything was unclear. Edgard was in intensive care for two weeks, and I sat by his side morning and night. Every day, he made progress. Once he was medically stable, he was transferred to intensive rehab for another two weeks. I was incredibly proud of his commitment and dedication to getting better. He exceeded everyone’s expectations. By the end of his rehab program, he could walk, talk, and perform his everyday tasks.

Edgard is a cook by trade. Initially, his left hand was weak and unable to perform small motor tasks, but his condition improved significantly over the next few months. We began eating healthier, working out five times a week, doing ice baths, and experimenting with magic mushrooms. After six months, he was back to 90% of his full functioning. It was incredible. Initially he was put on a daily aspirin along with a statin. After a few months, we figured out that the statin was doing more harm than good. It was causing muscle aches and limiting his movement, so he discontinued it and began to get even better.

In the following weeks, Edgard started to share the details of his near-death experience. He explained how he was floating above his body and immersed in beautiful bright clouds with fog dispersing all around him. He said it was very peaceful and he didn’t want to come back. This made me start believing in God for the first time and I have since deepened my faith. I am truly convinced there are miracles now, especially since Edgard returned to me. It feels like there is something greater at work and that we are meant to be together. This experience made Edgard and I closer than we have ever been.

As we approach our three-year mark, I couldn’t be happier. I have committed to lifelong sobriety from alcohol and am striving to do the same with weed. Edgard still enjoys an occasional drink and uses weed from time to time, and I am so proud of him. He is the best cook, a great photographer, a DJ in training, an excellent athlete, and my number-one supporter.

Edgard is 49, and I am 35. When we met, he weighed 230 pounds, was unhealthy, and unable to run or work out. Fast forward to now, and he is 160 pounds, fit as a fiddle, and training for a half marathon with me. When I met him, I was addicted to stimulants, cigarettes, alcohol, weed, and chaos. Now, I am clean and sober, cigarette and stimulant-free, stable, working on my first novel, and happier than I have ever been. I couldn’t ask for a better partner; I feel truly blessed. I took a chance on love, and it paid off. I have finally met my soulmate.