Back in high school, I was hopelessly in love with an older boy I met in drama school. When he asked me out, I fell hopelessly in love, and I thought he did too. We met often by a fort, overlooking the sea, on the coast of Lazio for romantic evenings, and one afternoon, he asked me to meet him there. Smitten as always, I showed up with stars in my eyes. And right there, in the middle of our love location, he dumped me for no reason. Shocked, I reasoned with myself that, as an actor, he was just joking, trying out some lines for practice. But when I realized he wasn’t, I bolted, making a quick getaway. Launching myself onto the seat of my moped, I pulled out quickly, but I hadn’t gone two meters before he started shouting “Olly, Olly, Olly!” 

“Boom,” I thought, “there it is, the theater kid just being dramatic.” I thought for sure he’s going to say he made a mistake. But instead, he yelled, “You’re leaving without a helmet!” I awkwardly get off, grab the helmet, stuff my head into it, and immediately run to my friends to cry. They, of course, laughed–and now I do too.

After a few months, he did come back to me, by the way. But I turned him down. By then, I was already dating someone else, a beautiful basketball player with not a theater bone in his body.