If It Weren’t for Dean Dillon

Our friends all him Dillon.

I call him Dean, Dean Dillon, Dilly Willy, and Dillon.

Prior to meeting him, I was absolutely bored out of my FLIPPING mind in Atlanta. There was so much to see and no one I could talk to or share it with. I had ZERO friends outside of my puppies.

Ponce City Market was down the road and I fell in love with the architecture and went there nearly every day to wonder, drink coffee, eat a macaroon and hope that either:

  1. I met my future prince of a husband and we lived happily ever after like a Disney Movie princess. OR-
  2. I would get adopted by a group of friends and WE would live happily ever after going on adventures and having fun!

It was a Saturday and Ponce City Market was PACKED. I told the universe that I was going to meet friends and go out tonight. I was stir crazy and couldn’t play it safe in my apartment anymore in this new city. I was waiting in line at Tap to get my drink as I passed “GO” on my lap in Ponce City Market. It is laid out in a way that allows you to circle round and round. “Tap” would be like “GO” in Monopoly and my signal to get another drink. I was so bored, I made up a  successful drinking game in the mall.

Every lap, have your last drink done and grab another! 

In line, a guy started casually talking to me. I didn’t pay much attention, except that I noticed he was with a group of guys. I got my apple cider and coolly walked off.  I was trying to be careful to whom I talk to out of fear that one of the bad things that my dad told me happend in Atlanta may just happen to me. Silly, but true.

I was in the top level of Ponce City Market when I had noticed that same group of guys was sitting below me. I peaked and saw them looking up at me. I moved to the other side. Peaked again, only to see them taking another glance up at me. Deciding I wanted some Mexican Hot Chocolate with a shot of espresso, I headed downstairs to get what my heart desired. That is when I heard someone say hello behind me. Checking to see if for some reason that hello was directed towards me, I turned around to see that very same guy in line, now behind me.

Hello, he said.

Hi , I said back.

We exchanged names. He was Dillon. I told him I just moved to Atlanta and he said I should come sit with him and his friends. I told him, okay, but I would leave if I didn’t like them and smiled playfully at him. He laughed and said that we would expect me to leave if I didn’t like them.

I followed him back to the table where I sat and became the only girl at the table. They all started bombarding me with questions and seemed like nice people and not complete assholes. Trying to figure out how long I was going to hang out with this group of guys, I learned that they had some other friends meeting up with them, girls. I grew excited, I felt like I might have found friends. The two girls finally showed up, and that is when I met Abby and Fernanda.

Abby wore a red peacoat and lipstick to match. She looked fierce and vampire-esque. Fernanda smiled a lot and kind of looked like she was possibly drunk already. Both seemed genuinely nice and hugged me.

The rest is now history because I fell in love with these group of friends and I hope they have with me. They have completely adopted me and have become my family and I see them every week, multiple times. I do not know what I would have done in Atlanta if I had not ever met them. They have brought so much fun and friendship into my life and I am so happy to finally have people to run with in life.

I owe it all to Dean Dillon. Thank you for being such a great person and friend. If you never walked up to me, I might still be doing laps around Ponce City Market looking for my place in Atlanta. Dramatic? Maybe. Is this possible? Absolutely, but it isn’t my reality. This is because I chose to not hide and put myself out there. I didn’t let fear keep me in the apartment I pay rent for. Being rewarded for putting myself out there was the kind of assurance from the world that I needed. I felt like the start of something new was brewing!

Put yourself out there in the world and fight for your right to a life!

Have you been through a moment in life where you felt like you were stuck and had to push yourself out of your comfort zone to succeed? Share and comment below!


Don’t have #FOMO and check it out:

-> The Story of Finding Neverland, start here! One. When Wendy Met Peter

Catch up on other stories in Creating My Neverland:

  1. The Georgia Peach Meets the Big Apple
  2. New York in New York Minute
  3. New York Nights
  4. Au revoir

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