The Sunshine of My Illusions: Unraveling My Obsession with Richy Heart

Richy Heart was my sunshine. I loved him so much. I was obsessed with him. He was the first person I felt seen and understood by, despite being in a full-blown illusion.

I wanted to fall for you so deeply that it hurt. Returning to Europe, I felt this pain every day. I missed you dearly—your presence, your voice. I cried daily, experiencing emotions like never before. My sponsor, Sabrina, a strong and wise guide, suggested this was simply me awakening to a new reality as I sobered up from all the substances.

My life feels being in one heartbreak after another. That I came to the conclusion that it is actually boring and I am done. Done woth trying wasting my time on unsuitable mates. What's the point????

That is how I feel today. I’m glad I don’t miss you anymore. We went in opposite directions, and the buzz broke us apart. I had to move on to stay clean and sober; I was just a few months into recovery and a hot mess. It's true what they say: it gets better. Still, life happens, and you can be thrown into massive storms that you have to get through. I need peace, I need calm, and I definitely need ice cream—well, that’s only because of menopause. It was really messing with my hormones, but I guess it’s sorted out now. I’m moving on at my own pace, in my own flow.

Nevertheless, a bit more honestly would have been great, and that's not too much to ask as I was expecting you to follow me to Berlin in a few months time> I was planning to settle in Miami.

Ok I went to London instead. C'est la vie.

I remember sitting in the open studio of Jazz radio Berlin, trying to hide my tears away, while hosting the show " Dinner Jazz". I felt so lonely. Heartbreak is awful.

You see the sadness that followed me everywhere.

Dear Richy, you have inspired me greatly, and I am so glad we met. Our meeting was truly special.

I’d like to share the story of how we first met. Let me think back... It was a Saturday morning, March 21st 2015, in little Haiti, Miami. I was staying at a friend's place in Midtown for a few days—he was a Couchsurfing friend. I was writing my reflections in Step 12 of the Love Fellowship, meditating, and chanting when the idea struck me to attend a meeting at a newly discovered meeting house. I checked the meeting list and hurried downstairs, still dressed like I was in my PJs. I ran to catch a bus but couldn't find one, so I ended up taking a cab and managed to arrive just before the meeting started. The meetings in the States are quite different; they even had a bar there, and we had to pay for coffee with one-dollar bills! While I was there, some guys were setting things up, and one was behind the bar. We struck up a conversation.

So, as the meeting was about to start, I was asked if I wanted to be the speaker of the day. I was truly impressed and proudly accepted. The meeting took place in a large room, featuring a typical podium with a microphone at the front. After the usual introductions and readings that are customary in a twelve-step meeting, I was called up to speak about my journey—my relationship with God, the world, and my recovery. There were only five participants in total. I began by sharing where it all started: my childhood. I didn’t know how else to describe my struggles other than to blame them on my past. I was still in victim mode, at least while in the rooms, hoping for a better life one day at a time. I talked about various aspects of my life and how I had become such a mess that I needed the twelve-step groups to steer my life in a better direction. Speaking in front of them felt a bit like being a priest or a guru, which was gratifying. These five total strangers, each coming from completely different walks of life, were listening attentively. At that point, I had seven months of sobriety, which was a significant achievement. I could already see some miracles happening because I had surrendered myself to a higher purpose and was learning to love myself and strive to be the best version of myself, one day at a time, with the help of the program, fellow travelers, literature, and spiritual practices. As I spoke into the microphone, I noticed a guy in the middle of the room who looked a bit sad. He was around my age, and I felt a connection with him, knowing I needed to find a place to stay soon. This was somewhat distressing, especially since my theater workshop was starting in two days, and I needed to memorize English dialogues—a challenging task since my English skills were still limited. I sounded like someone who had just been in the States for about a month, mostly because I had attended English-speaking meetings in Berlin for about a month before traveling to Miami. At the end of the meeting, the five attendees gathered around me with so much warmth. We formed a small circle, holding hands and closing with a prayer. Then, they approached me and hugged me, thanking me wholeheartedly—including that guy. I started chatting with him, and he introduced himself as Richard. We exchanged Facebook details, and I mustered the courage to ask if he knew of a place where I could stay for a week. He responded positively, saying I could possibly stay at his place, although he had to go to work. What an eventful Saturday morning! Sometimes, good things happen when you least expect them. At that moment, I was still in my wild hair, wearing what I called pajamas, which looked more like athletic wear, and I hadn't even showered before leaving—just a quick cat wash.

After a long night filled with meltdowns and a lot of drama, I contacted Richard on Sunday morning and asked if we could meet earlier than planned. The place had turned into a party scene, and I couldn't participate, so I wanted to come that day instead of midweek. He agreed and suggested that we meet at the "Sober Rooms" in South Beach. I got ready for real this time and dressed up, but my eyes looked puffy from crying. I felt a bit lost outside and panicked because I wanted to meet Richard on time for the meeting. I was stressed about the upcoming meeting with so many actors, especially since my English skills weren't great and my self-perception was distorted. I managed to find a cab in the middle of downtown, and the mature woman driving me noticed I had been crying. When I told her the address, my panic escalated because I didn't have enough cash, my mobile phone wasn’t working, and I couldn't find an ATM. She looked at me in the mirror and said that I should never stop going to these meetings, or it could end badly for me. Her kindness made me cry even more. I felt so lost, but she drove me directly to the meeting and didn't get upset about the few missing dollars. I thanked her and forgot to take her details to reimburse her later. I pulled myself together and walked into the meeting, feeling a sense of relief. I can’t remember if I shared, but I probably spoke briefly in my broken English, as it was back then. Now, here I am writing confidently in English, thanks to Richard and the rooms. After the meeting, we left together, and he invited me to ride on his scooter since he had to head home shortly. Off we went. I still felt a bit off and shy, but Richard's presence, intelligence, and warmth were outstanding. He just knew how to communicate with me. He lived in a bohemian bungalow in upper midtown, not far from the Design District, which had a garden and a white rabbit. I later learned that his dad, Vince, was staying in a big camper outside the property to keep an eye on his son. Richard welcomed me in a way I had rarely experienced before. He said, "Feel free as a bird; me casa es su casa." We had coffee and chatted a bit, then he suggested going for a stroll. I invited him to join me for a yoga beach class in South Beach, and we left on his scooter. The yoga class was brilliant. I felt good in my skin, even practicing in my swimwear—something I would have never dared to do before. From the first moment, everything felt so natural with Richard. We spent an amazing week together—it was one of the best times of my life, full of romantic moments, and he treated me wonderfully. It felt like heaven; we were in our own bubble. He gave me a lift to the theater every day and picked me up afterward. He even provided me with a burner phone so I could reach him. We talked for hours, and time flew by too quickly.

There's so much more to say about Richard. We lost touch a few years later, and I hope he is doing alright wherever he is.

Here are a few inspirations I gathered after meeting with Richy Heart.

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Miami Scooter boy print > on t shirts and other fabrics.

This collage happened after a midnight call with Richard in October 2016. You can find it as a digital print in my shop