Just a girl who writes because everything is so beautiful.

As soon as I stepped out of that airplane into the brisk summer night, I could smell it. The change. The vibe that now enevelped me was not the one I had when I left home earlier that day. The strums of the first notes of 'Caminito' were playing in my head. People rushing by wanting to get to their families, the chatter, the laughter, the small airport that is on the outskirts of the capital. "We're here", my father said and I squealed in excitement. This new energy was knitting itself into my skin, penetrating it until it reached my bones. Everything was so colorful, so cheerful, so bright. The big city lights of Buenos Aires were waiting for me. I could feel them and I wondered if anyone else felt the same way.

Argentina had always been a fantasy, something so far away that seemed to not be in my grasp. I spent years listening to stories, singing tangoes and falling in love with pictures that everyone believed I would be disappointed when I finally got there. My mother joked that Buenos Aires would be my miragé. They weren't correct, though. It was real. My love was etched deep into my soul and I felt it emanating from my pores. Buenos Aires was mine to take, mine to grasp, mine to love. All the stories did no justice, all the tangoes seemed to echo in my head like a song on repeat, all the dances, all the people, all the energy that had accumulated there with years of history was now within my reach.

Stepping out of the airport was like being a kid in a candy store. My eyes were wide with excitement, my heart was racing, my palms were sweaty. It was like being on a date with your longtime crush. The taxi driver eyed us, gave us a nod and my father gave him the address. I just stared out the window and basked in the glory of everything. I remembered the words of my favorite book "I cry because everything is so beautiful" and I finally understood the meaning behind them. I couldn't cry, though. Not with my father in the car. I was just a teenager, too proud and too stubborn to realize that feelings were not a weakness.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in front of the Obelisco. My eyes watered and I thanked God that I was sitting down because I was certain my knees became jelly at the sight of the monument. I was in love, more so than before and I promised myself that I would never forget that moment when my eyes met Buenos Aires for the first time because for me, all of the city's vibe came from that object in the middle of the world's widest avenue.