“That’s her. She’s the one” said my mother when I showed her the picture of this girl on my phone. This was the second time in my life that my mother was foreseeing my future partner. The first time it was my ex who she told me about in a tarot reading. I spent almost nine years of my life with her. So this time I could have easily freaked out, but I was kinda happy. I could do this. The new girl was really beautiful.

I met this British girl on Facebook. I knew her two best friends in person, and I saw her a couple of times in real life, but we never talked. I regretted that later. When I finally had the chance to meet her again, after I was constantly hitting on her online, I was drunk and being pathetic after I was kicked out of a club. All I could say was “hi” and those were some really awkward 15 seconds. We never met again and after that things got cold. To be honest, things were never good. I screwed any chance with her the minute I hit on both her friends before talking to her.

Despite the odds, I gave it one last try. I was going to San Pedro de Atacama in a few days, decided to change my life for good. I could feel things were going to take a big turn, just didn’t know how. I asked her to go have a coffee with me. She said no. Some days later, alone with my left foot broken and my ass sitting on hot sand, 200 meters over the ground in a hill in the middle of the desert, I felt life fading away. I said out loud I didn’t regret anything, but I was lying. I wanted to see my family and friends again. And, fuck, I really wanted to get that bloody coffee.