American Love Stories
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Too Unique

The Language of Our Hearts

No Regrets

A four year difference

"The accidential tourist" or "Pie and tacos"

Street Love

Tuesday, 7:30 a.m.

He drove by just taking a glance at me and me at him. I did not think nothing of it, at first. Then all of a sudden -- here he comes again -- he turned the corner and made a U-turn, disobeying all traffic laws and stops and out of nowhere he calls to me, to ask me one of the dumbest questions. He asked, "Which way is it to downtown L.A.," like if no one knows where downtown L.A. is at. Hello...

Well, I told him, and next thing I know he is asking me my name, and I gave him my name and eventually my home, work and pager number all at once. What was I thinking?!! I don't know.

One thing I can tell you, I'm happy I did. We have been going out for almost 2 years now, and out of those 2 years we have been living together for 1 year.

We have differences, yes we do. I am Catholic, he's Christian Pentecostal. I am Mexican, he is a half-breed, half Guatemalan and half Spaniard.

He does not like the figures inside the Catholic churches and I don't like the fact that he has to pray for everything. We have learned to deal with it, by respecting each other, not just because we're people, but because we are a couple living together under the same roof. He does not like my religion, I know, but when my friend got married in a Catholic church, he went with me to the ceremony and sat right there beside me, happy to be with me. His family had a get-together at his brother's house and I went, although I did not know what to expect. They started praying before they started eating their food, something that I am not acustomed to. I just sat there and waited for them to finish praying before eating. He was happy, and I could see that he was.

Living together with these differences has helped us. We now know how to deal with our daily problems as small or big as they are. Our friends have helped us a lot, just by being there for us and giving us a word of advice. They don't see our differences, but rather they see us. Strangers think we are brother and sister just because we look almost alike. We tell them were not. They get surprised. My family at first were like, What? He's from where? But now he's part of the family, and even my mom likes him a lot.

Did I make a good choice or what? I know I did. And even though at first it was hard because I thought he was always going to be preaching to me, and now and then he does, but we don't fight about religion. About him being Guatemalan-Spaniard I don't mind, because I love him. We nag at each other constantly, get each other mad, but in the end making up is much sweeter.

In short, to me it does not matter if has a different way of speaking Spanish, or English, or dresses funny. All I know is that by learning to deal with everything and by helping each other we have overcome all those differences. Even though the differences are still there, they are not to us.

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