Some days into the new year I managed to speak out loud again. The fact that my bedroom was a suite meant I never had to leave it. My mom had travelled again, but nanna had stayed behind. Every now and then she would knock on my door with some food. I tried my best to show some reaction, but we're talking about the woman who raised me; she saw through my pain like cellophane. But every time she tried asking me how I was, I would just fall silent and stare blankly at her. She knew I wasn't refusing to speak or just being difficult, so she just made sure I remembered there was at least one person who loved me.

As the days started to pass I decided to try and live as normally as I could. Oliver was gone and I wouldn't see him again. So I guess he wasn't the person I was looking for. The internal dilemma was enormous. I still had faith I would find what I wanted, but I was so tired of trying and failing. Above anything else, the worst part is that for some time when I was with Oliver, I had indeed felt I was done searching. I was wrong. And going back to that point where I just started anew was taking its toll on me.

It was, from every single angle possible, a terrible decision to go back online at that time and try to find someone new. I knew the exact extent to how vulnerable I was and I knew the biggest chance was at me falling prey for it. But, as always, words always flow through my fingers before they can make their way to my mouth. I was communicating again and I had to admit that doing so was giving me a lot of hope.

The first guy I met was Shortie. Fine, I don't really remember his name, just that he was ridiculously short, especially by my side. I'm 1.83m and he was 1.5. He was adorable and I actually managed to go on a daytime date with him after we spoke for a few days. It was fun and his kisses were really sweet, but a couple of days later we were talking about sex and he said even blow jobs for him needed to be done with condoms. I know it's the right thing to do, but there's no fucking chance in hell I'll put that thing in my mouth. So we never spoke again.

Next I met Kenny, a graduating architect in love with stair design and animated movies. Looking back, I guess both Kenny and I were extremely vulnerable, both desperately needing some love and attention.

At first, things really seemed to have clicked between the both of us. We were both men who were unafraid to show emotion and we were both willing to feed each other's needs. I could never wait until I could talk to him again and he always acted the same. Maybe he was as broken as I was and maybe that was exactly what I needed. After all, I lacked the strength to hide my pain and the will to pretend to be strong.

We had a very nice first date. He was outraged by finding a person who had never watched Snow White and luckily there was a theatre showing animated classics for the holidays. At the end of the movie he asked me to be his boyfriend and I, not believing how easy the whole thing had been, gladly accepted.

The next day I had a meeting at work and boy was I so lucky to get a call from Oliver. I was angry on the phone. After all the pain, now that I was finally breathing again he decided to contact me? Hell. Fucking. No.

I remember not even giving him the chance to speak. Whatever it was, I wasn't interested.

I called Kenny right after just to get my dose of tenderness. I explained to him that I wouldn't be able to talk at work because of the meeting and he just asked if I had an estimate of when it would be over. We finished our talk and I felt better. So better that during the day I thought Kenny would like if I sneaked out a little just to text him.

Turns out he didn't. He questioned me if I was telling him the truth at all and if I was really at work. I felt lost and confused by that reaction and just said I thought he would like it.

Later that day he explained to me on the phone that he had suffered a lot with a lot of guys lying to him before and because of that his fear sometimes spoke louder.

'Listen' my voice was calmer than I expected. 'I know what that's like and I know that trust is a really difficult thing to build and so easy to break, but it would be nice if you believed me when I say that I don't lie. Okay, I lie to students and bosses, but that's all. I don't lie to people in my personal life. It's too much trouble and it never leads to any good. I am always honest, at times even too much. If I tell you that I was at work and thought it'd be nice to try and squeeze you in, it's because I was at work and thought it'd be nice to try and squeeze you in.'

A few days passed and every single one of them, he would find a way to fight me over something that felt minor. We spent weekends together at his place and he even introduced me to his friends.

We were at the mall one day. The two of us and a female friend of his. I was trying to be as social as possible and to make sure his friend didn't feel like a third wheel. I know how awkward that is and I would appreciate, if I were in her shoes, if the couple did that for me.

When she went to the ladies' room he angrily cornered me to ask why I was hitting on his friend. I was so shocked I gasped.

'I don't know if you noticed it, but she's a girl. So that's the second reason why I would never hit on her.'

'And the first?' He was still angry, which was honestly pissing me off.

'The first is that I'm with you, stupid.'

If there is one thing I never liked, that was people telling me things I am not.

Still, I spent the rest of the weekend with him. A big one, actually, for it was carnaval. I finally went home on Wednesday and decided to spend some time with nanna and mom, since it had been a few days and we did live together.

We watched some Netflix and talked amenities and then I went to my room and finally took a look at my phone, the last time I had touched it being when I arrived to let Kenny know I was safe and sound.

There were a few calls from him. I got worried something might have happened and called him. He started screaming as soon as he picked the phone up.

It was of the worst rows I've ever had in my life, because he had crossed a very dangerous line there. I had just spent four days with him and he was shouting at me for spending two hours with my fucking family? Fuck you, Kenny. Fuck you hard.

We argued for what felt like forever and when we finally ended the call I felt so depressed I went to sleep.

I had dated Oliver for a year and a half and we never had had a single fight. Not even to break-up. And here I was, three weeks and 21 fights in this relationship that was making me more exhausted than I could remember feeling.

That night I had a dream I still remember as if it were last night. There would be a party at my uncle's house and I was late for it after work. I arrived and the fifth-story flat was bathed in golden light from the setting Sun. In the dream the opposing wall was made of a gigantic window, so all of the flat was cast in that gorgeous light, which happens to be my all-time favourite.

I asked if I could take a shower and I was in such a hurry I just darted inside the bathroom. Halfway through it I realised I had no clean clothes and that there was no towel. Before I could call anyone, the bathroom door opening, allowing the golden light to invade all of the space as well, and Oliver entered, holding in his hands a small pile of three folded pieces: a beige pair of shorts, a white shirt and a white towel. He placed the pile on top of the closed toilet lid and headed to the door, saying when he left 'call me if you need me'.

I woke up with a start. I cannot say the dream felt real, for everything in it was just too perfect. But then it hit me: in a perfect scenario, Oliver is there. And he did tell me to call me if I needed him. And I did. I needed him like I always have. I needed him like I did when I first said I loved him.

But did I have the courage to actually call him? All my adult life I defended that it was pointless to ever get back together to an ex. Great as they might be, if things didn't work out once, it's because things between the two of you don't work out.

I got ready for work and on my way I kept having that mental fight.

That day I learned one of the most important lessons I have ever learned, a question I will carry with me my whole life:

At the end of the day, do you wish to be right, or do you wish to be happy?

Of course it is amazing when you're both of them, but sometimes you have to choose. That day, I chose I wanted to be happy. I arrived at work, picked up the phone and called Oliver.

'I thought you said you never wanted to talk to me again.'

I indeed said that. I apologised and told him about the dream I had.

'...I know it wasn't really you, that it was just a dream. But it made me realise that I do need you.'

We arranged to meet at work the next day, which would be his day off. I had to fight the urge to run into his arms in the middle of the street.

Oliver apologised for breaking-up with me. He said that living at my mother's house made him so unhappy and desperate that it clouded everything in his brain and that he had decided to completely remove himself from that situation. When the bad effects were gone he realised he had overdone it, and that was when he had tried to call me.

'You put me... In a lot of pain, Oliver.'

I decided that I wasn't ready to tell him about my New Year's Eve, but I also knew I had to make him aware of the damage he had done. I tried to open up to him again, after all it had been my idea to have that meeting. We talked as we walked around the block and sat a few metres away from the school.

'And what about that guy you're seeing?'

'You mean Kenny? I guess I'll have to stop seeing him. Even if we don't get back together, I can't stay with him.'

'Do you want to get back together?'

'I would love to, but I don't want to be alone in this. It's only if you also want it.'

'I do' and he opened one of the most sincere smiles I had ever seen. 'But I'm sorry, I can't go back to living at your mother's.'

'It's okay. But what do you think of visiting and staying the night every now and then? Zeph misses you.'

He cried at the mention of Zeph.

'That sounds like a good plan.'

That evening on my way home from work, I called Kenny. As it had become usual, je started lashing out at me for not being a good boyfriend. I took my cue.

'It appears this isn't working, then. You have made clear time and time again that I am not what you are looking for.'

'I can't believe it! You're really letting go without a fight?'

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

'No! Not without a fight! With a lot of them, actually! You have fought me every single day ever since we started dating. What kind of life is that?'

'You're right. You're not who I'm looking for. Have a nice life, Ralph.

'You too, Kenny.'

The call ended and I felt like tons had been lifted from my shoulder.

*

That weekend Oliver came to visit. I was really excited, also because I wanted to see Zeph's reaction. When he texted me he had got off the bus, I let Zeph loose on the garage so he could see his other dad coming. He barked as usual, but when Oliver entered, he sniffed him a lot, turned his back to him and returned to his house on the back yard.

'I guess he's angry at you.'

'He has all the right to be, but he'll come around. He just needs time.'

'I guess we all do.'

And we entered the house to spend an amazing weekend together.