Love Freedom: a match, a musical, and a goodbye

A symphony in three acts

By: Dave Jiménez

ACT I: THE FIRST BEAT

I grew up surrounded by sounds, words, and bohemia. I studied film and I’m passionate about writing, theater, and music. In musical theater I find a union of all the things that have captivated me since I was a child.

With Glee came my passion for exploring that world more deeply. In Colombia the industry is almost nonexistent, so I settled for watching musicals on screen and, perhaps, one day dreaming of seeing one on Broadway — though back then it felt distant, even impossible.

ACT II: THE DUET

Summer arrived in Europe. I decided to meet people on Tinder. Buried among unanswered conversations, I found a message that read: “I have one night in Malta, I sail early tomorrow. Want to come to my hotel?”

I hesitated. But against all odds, I left my sheets to slip into his. Without fear. Only a deep curiosity to know him, to discover what was behind that message thrown into the void.

A cocktail, a small conversation, and some caresses later, the night came to an end. In the end, it was casual sex again — the kind that starts and finishes without much of a story.

But this song wasn’t over yet.

ACT III: THE GRAND THEATER

His work as a singer kept him out at sea, performing shows on cruise ships. Every time he docked in Malta, we had the chance to see each other again. We had dinner, walked, sang Coldplay under Mediterranean nights. And musicals brought us together. Always musicals.

One day we met in London. It was my first time in England, and until then the city had been for me an enormous but unknown culture: the power of its theaters on the streets of Soho, its advertisements in the underground, that magic I had only ever seen in films. Fortunately, I not only reunited with someone who by then was much more than a match — he was already something difficult to name — but I was also able, at last, to give myself over to that city that had always been a paper dream.

Night came and he only told me he had a surprise. I arrived at the Piccadilly Theatre and a sign read: Moulin Rouge! The Musical. I couldn’t believe it. It was my first time seeing a musical live. I cried for almost two hours. I cried singing Britney’s Toxic, I cried with every feather, every sequin, every note. I cried because he was beside me, because the boy who used to watch musicals on a screen was now inside one, because life sometimes decides to give you exactly what you never asked for but always dreamed of.

At the end, when paper began to rain from the ceiling, we caught a piece together. We grabbed it mid-air, like someone catching a dream before it fades away.

I had no words for what I felt for him, for what he had done for me. There was room for nothing but a deep gratitude: to life, for letting me see a musical live for the first time; to him, for holding my hand while I cried; to us, for existing in that perfect moment.

Without meaning to, he wasn’t only fulfilling the dream of that little boy. He was teaching me that love can also be like this: generous, unbound, free. Like a song that doesn’t ask permission to play.

INTERMISSION

Like in Moulin Rouge, I understood that the greatest love is the one that loves in freedom. Our story followed its natural course, between goodbyes, departures, and returns. Learning to love without strings attached is perhaps the most genuine way to do it. Like Satine and Christian, we knew our time was borrowed. But we sang and danced together anyway.

FINAL ACT: THE GOODBYE

After so many months, I left Malta to go to London, and then came the time to leave London and go back home. We shared our last weeks together. We saw one more musical: Back to the Future. We took the Elizabeth Line and got off.

At Heathrow, he said goodbye to me smiling. I held him tight, like someone trying to stop time. And as I crossed the boarding gates, I heard in my memory that Coldplay song from the bay in Malta.

That was the last time we were able to sing together.

CURTAIN

Perhaps, like in Moulin Rouge, our love will always be an unfinished song. The curtain fell. But the music plays on.

He will always be my first real match. My first musical. My first rhythm of love.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

If you want to share your story and become part of this healing community, you can send it to escriturasdave17@gmail.com — @davejimenezd (Instagram)