when in rome

i. two weeks til rome

Words are important. Without words, there wouldn't be sentences. Without sentences life wouldn't make sense, but life doesn't make much sense anyway. Okay, that's not my point. My point is, without words I wouldn't be able hear the best news of my life, which occurred five minutes ago. And that news is the reason why words are very important.

Yes, I may not be making sense but I know what I'm talking about. And if it makes sense in my mind then who cares what anyone thinks?

Well, I'll stop yammering and tell you what this extra special most awesome news on the planet is.

But maybe I should yammer on some more and tell you (the imaginary people in my head) about the basis of this good news.

I am an artist. And no, not some crazy person who splatters paint onto a canvas, but a real artist. But, I am crazy, I am a person, and I do splatter paint onto a canvas. So, maybe I am a crazy person who splatter paint onto a canvas. The only difference is that I do it with meaning.

Meaning, that I put heart and soul into my paintings with the idea that my audience could build an attachment to them. And yes that's hard to accomplish, but I've done a great job doing so within the last few years.

I painted all throughout high school, which helped me get through the pressures of teenage adolescence. While people were worried about the way they looked and the amounts of sex they've had, I sat in my room (or my favorite teacher's art room) and painted. It kept me physically and mentally sane, especially when times were tough.

I took my art to college in New York. The highlight of my life was getting into New York School of Art, as it became clear to me that I wanted to continue drawing for the rest of my life. It gave me a feeling of strength and everyday I knew more and more about myself.

And as I think to myself about the progress I've made with my art, well only five words come to mind.

I. Am. Going. To. Rome.

Rome! Yes, Italy's Rome. Europe's Italy's Rome. Remember earlier when I was yammering on about words and how I just heard the best ones in my life? Well, they had to do with Rome.

I just got accepted to study abroad in Rome for the summer. Now of course it's all that's it's cracked up to be, and of course I can't wait. Girls like me always struggled with what they wanted in life, and knowing that I'm going to Rome in the next few weeks, it really helps me know exactly what that is.

Now, I couldn't just continue yammering on in my head about words and Rome, I had to pack. I had to shop! I had so many things to do before I leave, which is two weeks too soon, yet so far away.

I jump to my feet and run to my room. I needed to start soon. I picked up my phone and went to my Apple Music library, playing the first thing that described my mood; Rihanna's "Work."

Singing along to the song's repeated lyrics, I went into the room of my small Brooklyn apartment. I pulled the biggest suitcase I could find out of my small closet, praying that I wouldn't get stuck in a closet avalanche.

I heard the door open and smiled, knowing that my awesome roommate and best friend, Greyson Fredrickson would use his strong muscles to help me out.

Grey and I have been close since literal birth. He and I would take baths together, wondering why our parts weren't the same. We laughed together when learning about puberty in school, while also making fun of each other while we were actually going through it. I was the first person Grey came out to, and I respected him even more for it.

And now we're together in Brooklyn, sharing a two bedroom apartment with the help of financial aid and our inheritance money, only hoping to find ourselves.

Anyway, Grey walked into the room, calling out for my name. "In here!" I shouted.

Walking into my small room, he stared at me. He could tell I was struggling to get the suitcase down, but that didn't stop him from helping. He went over and grabbed it for me, smiling. "Thanks." I said.

"Well, I do have a knack for pulling things out of the closet." he smirks. I roll my eyes and giggle at his lame attempt at gay humor, as he sets the suitcase on the bed.

"Why do you need this big ass thing anyway?" he asks. It took him awhile to catch on, until it instantly clicked into his head. "Wait, did you get the internship?" he grinned, getting instantly excited.

I nodded in even more excitement as he hugged me tightly. "I got it, Grey!" I laughed.

"Oh my God, Gabs! I'm so happy for you!" he praises. "You're going to Rome! This is exciting. Have you seen Italian boys?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yes, I have. All they do is eat fancy spaghetti while also riding their colorful motor scooters." I joke.

"I'd be willing to eat spaghetti for the rest of my life if I got a guy like that."

"Whatever, Grey. Plus the guys I'm only focused on are you and Dylan. That's it." I say, as I shove random pieces of clothing into my bag.

"Oh, yeah. How did Mr. Pretty-boy take the news?" Grey stated.

Mr. Pretty-boy, also known as Dylan Decker, was my handsome boyfriend. We'd been together for two years, following each other to college. I will admit I am in love, but sometimes the kid drives me crazy. That's love right?

I sang along to Drake's verse of Work, completely ignoring the question. Truth is, Rome and Dylan was never really a combination that manifested in my head.

"Gabriella Nicola Monroe, you didn't tell him you got in did you?" Grey smirked.

"Uh, yeah. But on the brightside he doesn't even know I applied." I shrug, as if that comment made my actions completely okay.

With a look of shock on his face, Grey lightly punched me. I couldn't tell if he was happy or disappointed. Truthfully he never really liked Dylan, and enjoyed every single time I wasn't completely the best girlfriend to him.

"Gabi," he began. "And what is going to happen when he does find out?" he asks, knowing that Dylan would be extremely pissed that, I'm not only going to Rome for a month, but that I took the opportunity to without telling him. "And it's not like he's not going to notice, especially when he's wondering why his girlfriend has been M.I.A. for a full month."

"He is going to be extremely happy for me because he loves me." I mention, as I continue to pack my suitcase.

"Okay, then." Grey says, knowing that things could potentially go wrong between Dylan and I.

But it's completely fine. Rome is a place of love. And Dylan loves me. And I love him.

There's a word of importance; love.