I
You’re strolling along cobblestone roads and the sunshine is the perfect level of warmth: lazy without being overbearing, calming without inducing sleep. This city is much smaller than you remember it being as a kid, but you find comfort in this, quickly memorizing the colorful road to the city center, as well as never losing sight of that restaurant you really liked with the charming desserts. The pink towers of the Parroquia de San Miguel Archángel church rise high in the center of the square and the bells ring out loud every hour. You think it might be getting close to sundown, but you don’t bother checking the time to make sure. There are carefree children running around the various vendors holding balloons and bubble guns. The smell of street corn and coffee fills the air—an unlikely but oddly not unwelcome combination that really ties the whole scene together. Linking arms with your sister, you walk toward the edge of the road, where women with the help of their children are sat in circles, weaving together fresh flowers into crowns. Your sister tugs your arm and leads you toward them. You spend the better half of an hour trying on crowns in different colors and sizes before finally selecting the perfect one, laughing through the entire process. Your skin is warm from the sun, and your insides are warm from contentedness. As you’re dragged toward an old wooden door for a far too cliche picture, you think that maybe this might be the most beautiful backdrop to your life yet.
II
You’re drunk. Not incredibly so that it’s nauseating, but just the right amount of tipsy that the edges of streetlights are blurry and your feet move much looser than you intended. The drunkenness is a side effect of a rooftop bar with the most beautiful views in all of San Miguel. Most of the family you traveled here with has taken a day for guided tours, but you and your best friend and sister decide to hang back to do your own exploring around the city. By the time you leave your hotel room, though, all the local museums have closed, so instead you wind up splurging on food and drinks that are far too high class for you. The plates are small and served with flower petals on the edges. The vodka comes in delicate glasses and is colored bright blue and red, staining your tongue in more ways than one. Everything is joyous and everything is irrationally hilarious and suddenly you realize that mygod you’re so hungry. Against all better judgement, you let your phone run out of battery life, and decide to trust your navigation instincts instead. Your friend suggests you follow the cinnamon smell in the air, and your blurry brain decides that might just be the most genius idea you’ve ever heard. The three of you take multiple wrong roads and take your time browsing through different shops, encouraging each other to try on beautiful embroidered dresses. Finally, you stumble toward where a line of people have formed outside a churro shop. You wait and you laugh and you watch the sunset until it’s your turn to order. There are too many flavors and the smell is far too sweet to undermine, so through slurred words, you order far too much. To this day, you don’t think you’ve ever had a more satisfying meal in your life.
III
This year was a biggie. This year, you fell in love for the first time, are through in the process of moving out of your childhood home, and you’ve dyed your hair twice. It wouldn’t have made sense to bid the year farewell from your bedroom or your aunt’s backyard or a tacky hotel ballroom. This is strangely and unexpectedly the only place that really feels like it does justice to all the successes and hardships you’ve lived through this year—the only place that seems to understand the uncertainty of what’s yet to come. San Miguel de Allende has welcomed you and your family into its historic architecture and luscious gardens with open arms this holiday season. Both you and the city have dressed up to the nines for New Year’s Eve. El Jardin is filled with locals and tourists alike holding bright sparklers as well as their loved ones close. You’ve decided to do something out of character and smother on some bright red lipstick to go along with your glittered cheeks. The occasion seems to lend itself to these kinds of daring choices, almost as an homage for the gift of confidence this city’s given to you. You watch as your cousin gives his balloon away to a small child, their parents’ eyes lighting up in gratitude. Your heart clenches in the best way possible, and as the fireworks go off behind the church, you begin to believe in miracles again.