The Parallel Universe Where I Said “Yes”

The other night, while washing dishes (because deep thoughts often strike when you’re elbow-deep in sudsy water), I found myself wondering how my life might’ve turned out had I taken a different path—or in this specific case, if I’d said yes to moving to New York with Claudia. Yes. Claudia. My CliffsNotes version of a Jane Austen heroine—sharp, intriguing, and with just enough chaos to make life worth living.

We broke up years ago. But the memories, much like the scent of Cuban coffee clinging to your clothes after breakfast at Abuela’s, occasionally linger. While I’m happily in a very different chapter of life, there’s a part of me that wonders: What would’ve happened if I’d said yes? What did the road not taken hold?

Spoiler alert: I stayed in Miami. Spoiler alert again: I don’t regret it. But let’s take a drive down that unpaved, wild road for a moment, shall we?

The Crossroads of Do We… or Don’t We?

Let me set the scene: Claudia and I had been dating for three years when she got the job offer in New York. She was over the moon, all energy and excitement, waving printed offer letters as if personally casting herself in a Netflix rom-com set in the Big Apple. Suddenly, “we” became “her + the City,” while I stood on shaky ground like the love interest left behind in a Hallmark movie set in Miami, holding a croqueta to cry into.

She wanted me to come with her. “It’s New York!” she said, eyes shimmering with possibility. I nodded, unsure. New York might’ve been Manhattan rooftop bars to Claudia, but to me, it was cramped studio apartments and surviving on $5 bodega empanadas. I was a Miami guy through and through—built for guayaberas, beach breeze, and my Tía yelling unsolicited advice during Nochebuena.

But here’s what’s tricky about love. It makes you consider things you’d never imagine for yourself. Love makes a born-and-bred Miamian imagine snowstorms and subway delays, just because someone extraordinary believes that world would be perfect—for both of you.

What Love Does… and What It Can’t Fix

I seriously considered it. We even did the whole “let’s make a pros-and-cons list” thing one night, over too much takeout and wine. Hers included, “Broadway! Culture! Career growth!” (all valid points). Mine were less academic: “But croquetas…”

A bigger part of me was scared—not because I didn’t love Claudia, but because I wasn’t sure I had the kind of love New York demands from couples. You’ve seen those rom-coms! There’s always some sort of dramatic declaration and a willingness to run through midtown traffic to keep the romance alive. I wasn’t sure I’d survive the cab horns, much less the emotional gymnastics.

Reflecting now, I realize something important: No relationship decision exists in a vacuum. It’s not just about the person, no matter how much Netflix might want you to believe otherwise. It’s also about your identity, your fundamentals, where you thrive. She was someone who thrived in chaos; I was someone who bloomed between palm trees. Neither was wrong, but they weren’t aligned.

Alternate Timeline Martin

Now, let’s take a whimsical jump into that alternate timeline—where I said yes. Here’s how I imagine it went:

  1. New York Martin becomes a coffee snob: I ditch my beloved cafecito for pour-over and whisper words like “notes of citrus” with a straight face.
  2. Claudia and I argue over rent: We’re sharing a tiny walk-up apartment in Brooklyn, arguing about who left half a bagel on the counter (spoiler: it was probably me).
  3. Cultural assimilation hiccups: Claudia makes me attend Friendsgiving with her coworkers where I—an unwitting Miami man—learn there’s pumpkin spice in literally everything. Even mac and cheese.

Don’t get me wrong; there’d be good days too. Nights laughing on a fire escape, drinks at dimly lit bars where everyone has opinions about jazz. But eventually, I think my resistance to city life would’ve worn us down. Relationships can bend, but they can’t survive if one person is constantly retreating into who they were instead of building something new. And really, should they?

Lessons from the Path Not Taken

So, what did I learn by not following her to New York?

  1. Love isn’t always “drop everything” devotion. The Hollywood idea of love requires perpetual compromise—but in real life, sometimes the strongest love is one that says, “I respect you and your dreams, even if this isn’t where our paths align.”

  2. Know who you are before deciding together. Miami Martin knew himself enough to recognize his personal happiness didn’t include traffic jams in Midtown or clawing for breathing space in Union Square.

  3. It’s okay to say no to love, if it means saying yes to yourself. And saying yes to yourself doesn’t make you selfish—it makes you whole.

We often view failed relationships as mistakes or detours, but they’re really dress rehearsals for our future selves. Claudia showed me I could love deeply, but also that it’s okay to love someone and still choose a different future. That’s not failure; that’s humanity.

The Road You’re On

I picture that version of Martin occasionally. He’s probably eating a dollar slice of pizza on the F train, a little worn out, but fiercely proud of the life he and Claudia built. Meanwhile, this Martin—a happily settled Miami-version—is typing this out while Jackson Browne and Celia Cruz shuffle on Spotify. My windows are open, letting the humid air in, the faint smell of someone's barbecue wafting on the breeze. This life isn’t The Road Not Taken; it’s The Road I Chose. And it’s beautiful.

Claudia? She's probably dazzling someone else in her perfectly chaotic way and conquering New York the way I always knew she would. And that, too, is beautiful.

Choices shape us, yes. But ultimately, they’re about finding a space where you can stop resisting life and, instead, let it flow. If you find yourself standing at a crossroads, here’s my advice: Trust your gut. Follow what feels honest—not convenient, not easy, but true. Whether that’s New York or Miami, flowers or chaos, love or just yourself for now, you’re exactly where you need to be.

Because no matter what path you take, it’ll be yours—and there’s nothing braver than that.