A Real Life Fairytale in Your Twenties

Who hasn't fantasized about having a fairytale moment? Especially when going abroad. Where I'm from, having an abroad boyfriend was like a right of passage.

I couldn't go abroad during college, but I was not going to let that stop me from traveling. The summer after my junior year, I went abroad with a tour company called EF Ultimate Break at 20 years old. I was 19, but it was two months from my twentieth birthday, so we can pretend. I would travel alone (with twenty strangers) to London, Paris, and Rome on this trip.

When I first landed in London, my immediate instinct was to find a girl who looked nice to befriend. Luckily the group stayed together, and I made friends quickly. During this first day, I stood in the crowds outside Windsor Castle and waved at newlyweds Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, thus foreshadowing my own fairytale.

I have to say that my memory of this trip is not crystal clear. There are specific details I remember vividly, some are hazier, and some will probably be out of order, but the sentiment is the same. I remember being one of the youngest, if not the youngest, out of the group. There were married couples and lots of 27-year-olds. They might as well have been my parents' age. My guide was a lovely man, I think from Italy, and he made us all feel welcome and comfortable immediately. During our first group meeting, we got room assignments. It was the first time I could scope out everyone in my group with whom I would spend the next two weeks. Early on, I must have noticed a boy that I thought was cute. I don't remember the initial attraction, but it had to have been there. He looked like someone I might be friends with in my real life back in America. He had brown hair, light eyes, and a nice smile. He had a friend with him, and they quickly befriended another guy, becoming the loudest and funniest people in the group. From the outside, it seemed they had developed a real bromance and wanted everyone else to know.

I am always on my best behavior when meeting new people, as are most. I am also somewhat shy and quiet upon first meeting. It takes time for me to warm up and reveal my true self. On a two-week trip, I didn't have the same luxury of time to warm up, but I still took a day or two.

As I said earlier, I don't remember the initial attraction, but suddenly I needed to be on the Harry Potter tour of Oxford. There were add-ons for the trip, special events in each city planned by the company, and I had signed up for every event except the tour of Oxford. While I love learning about England's history, I'm not a die-hard fan of Harry Potter. I had a traumatizing experience as a child when I was forced to watch The Order of The Pheonix at seven years old. Even now that I've seen all the movies, the love isn't there.

I talked my way onto the trip, knowing that I needed to be there so that I could spend time with the boy I now fancied. We talked and flirted throughout the day. Thanks to the English history shows I watched, I answered all the history questions. The other days in London, I walked around with a group of girls I had met and only saw the boy for big group outings. By the end of our time in London, I felt defeated that I had not made my move.

We went to Paris next. Paris was absolutely magical. People say it's overrated, but as a true romantic at heart, I think it's everything it's cracked up to be. I can't remember if it was our first day there or our second, but it was pouring. Torrential downpour. It might have been the most intense rain I've ever experienced, and we were making our way through it. We were trudging our way up the famous Montmartre steps of Paris as they practically flooded. It was grueling, to say the least. I remember one moment during our hike when the boy and I ended up next to each other. We spent the rest of the way walking together and laughing about the crazy experience. We had a special group dinner that night, and our tour guide was determined to make it there.

We were soaked by the time we got to the restaurant. Even through the gray sky, I could tell that the area was beautiful. I had already been thinking about where I would sit when we finally got to the restaurant. I wanted to sit with the boy, but he hadn't asked, and I thought it would be awkward to just sit with him and the group of friends he had made. By that point, everyone tended to gravitate to their respective smaller groups. To my surprise, the boy called me over just as I was debating where to sit. I was thrilled, to say the least. It was at that restaurant that I tried escargot for the first time. We ate and drank and listened to French music. It was the beginning of the fairytale I had hoped for.

This is where my memory gets hazy, and I remember what happened but not necessarily in the correct order.

On one of our days in Paris, our group was scheduled to walk around the city. We would end the night picnicking by the Eifel Tower and sailing on the Seine River. It sounded absolutely magical. But, I did not do those things. Instead, I went with the boy to Disneyland Paris for a double date. I don't regret anything I did on this trip except missing the Eifel Tower at night all lit up. I don't regret it in the way that I would have rather done that over what I did. I regret it in the way that I wish I could have done both, and I wish I had that experience.

As I said, I spent my last day in Paris at Disneyland Paris on a double date with the boy, his friend, and the girl on our trip his friend was interested in. By that point, the four of us were doing everything together. The boy was from Florida and lived for Disney. He said he always wanted to go to Disneyland Paris, and how could we pass up the chance? I was smitten and wanted to continue my fairytale, so I went along with it. I remember thinking to myself that I would go back to Paris one day and be able to see the lights on the Eifel Tower or sail on the Seine, but I would never get an opportunity like that one to spend the day with the boy I liked at a place he loved in Paris. When I say it back now, it sounds silly, but it felt right at the time.

The other couple in our foursome had already had their first kiss, and I was dying to have ours. It felt like their relationship was progressing faster than ours, and I felt insecure. Granted, we had all only known each other for a week at that point. But, relationships in that type of setting are accelerated. It's not that he wasn't affectionate either; he was. He would hold my hand and wrap his arms around me from behind. Towards the end of the day, we decided to go on a

teacup ride. It was intended for small children and spun slowly around in circles. We had our first kiss on the teacup ride, looking into each other's eyes. It was nothing fancy, just a small peck, but the moment was perfect.

We ended that night at Sleeping Beauty's Castle to watch the fireworks. Thousands of people sat around the castle watching in awe. I sat in between his legs leaning back against his chest. He rested his head on top of mine with his arms wrapped around me. I could have stayed like that forever. During the fireworks, he leaned down and kissed me. This time, he really kissed me. There we were, kissing under the lights of the fireworks at Disneyland Paris. It was magical.

Our next destination was Rome. One of the first things I wanted to do was have my own Lizzie McGuire moment. The Trevi Fountain was as impressive as I thought it would be. The boy bought me beautiful red roses from a local vendor. He took videos of me throwing in my coins. I can't remember what I wished for, but if I know myself at all, it was probably for that moment to never end. That night we went back to the Trevi Fountain and talked for hours. We were inseparable. There had been another girl on the trip I had felt was flirting with the boy. Not anymore. He was mine, and everyone knew it. We were definitely nauseating to any onlookers, always holding hands and happy. It was so unlike me, but what can I say? I was living my very own fairytale.

He was the perfect gentleman. We spent one day in Florence, and I slept on his shoulder the whole way home. He pushed in my chair, held doors, and always made sure my water glass was filled. He didn't make decisions without talking to me first and included me in everything he did. Our lives revolved around each other. In so many ways, we were so alike. We loved the same things, hated the same things, had the same reactions, and had the same slow way of expressing our feelings. I spent my nights in Rome with him. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. To be so comfortable with another person. So at home. For everything to feel so right or, as my mom says, meant to be. I couldn't get enough of him, and I never wanted to be apart from him.

When the end of our trip came, I was heartbroken. His plane left first, and I went with him to his gate. We cried and hugged and kissed. I held onto his shirt, not wanting to let go. It was like a piece of me was leaving with him. We said we would visit each other and that it wasn't the end. I meant those words with all of my heart. We texted every day.

Later that summer, I visited him. It was a fantastic trip, but the magic of our time together had worn off. The realities of who we were in our real lives caught up with us. I broke up with him shortly after I returned to school that fall. It was not easy, but I knew it was the right decision, and I still believe that. I will never forget our time together. I downplay it sometimes, but looking back, it was monumental. It was the first time I opened myself up to another person. It was the first time I really allowed myself to be vulnerable. I have always been a hopeless romantic. Before my trip, I had made jokes about an abroad trip romance. The reality was better than I could have ever wished for. For those two weeks, I had my prince charming in the most romantic places in the world. I shared once-in-a-lifetime experiences with that boy, and I am grateful for every one.