The Man Behind Mr. International

Hudson’s Note

March 13th marked one year with Mr. International. And as if the universe couldn't help itself, I landed in Barcelona on that exact day for spring break — the same city where it all began.

While I was busy planning what I thought was the perfect surprise — a private couple's dance class — he was quietly crafting something else entirely. First, dinner at the restaurant that watched us fall in love: the one right below my abroad apartment, where on the very first night we met, we laughed trying to speak each other's languages and discovered the snake on my necklace was tattooed on his arm. He used to park right in front of it, every time, until I eventually just moved in with him that summer.

Then came the surprise. He told me it was something I'd never guess. He was right — it was something I couldn't have even imagined. He wrote a column. In Portuguese. And translated it for me.

Grab tissues. Here's what he gave me:

The wonderful words of Rhayang Itajahy,

“This idea was crazy… and don’t expect it to ever happen again.

But how do you surprise the happiest person in the world?

I only had one option — recreate what she loves the most… her column.

Let’s start by breaking paradigms.

I’ve always been selfish. Cold. The kind of man who values very few things in life.

Very different from this perfect character standing in front of you.

Maybe you know me as Mr. International.

But before the Hollywood aura, before the “taller Tom Cruise” version of myself, I was just an empty man looking for meaning. Skydiving, shooting, fighting every single day to keep a martial arts gym alive — none of it was enough to fill the silence inside me.

And then I met you.

The definition of a smile.

The kind that lights up a room before you even say a word.

The kind that doesn’t just shine — it heals.

You didn’t just walk into my life. You broke through it.

Time, distance, circumstances — nothing stopped you.

And somehow, just for fun, you even managed to break my arm along the way.

But what you really broke… were my walls.

Like in The Notebook, I didn’t believe in that kind of love. The kind that waits. The kind that fights. The kind that chooses — every single day — even when it’s hard.

I didn’t believe someone could look at me and see more than what I was.

But you did.

While I was losing faith in life, you showed me that no matter how much time passes… it is always worth waiting for the right person.

You showed me that love isn’t something you find — it’s something you build. Brick by brick. Moment by moment.

We are balance.

You are the emotion. I am the reason.

You are the light. I am the storm learning how to calm down.

Today marks one year.

And I honestly don’t know if it went by fast or slow.

All I know is that we lived it. Fully. Intensely. Without fear.

And maybe that’s what we both needed.

To stop surviving… and start living.

Maybe I had to wait for you to “lose half your brain” to accept someone like me.

Maybe I had to meet someone crazy enough to love me exactly as I am.

But if loving you is madness… then I never want to be sane again.

I don’t know if recreating a column is enough to show how much I love you.

But if I had to write our story a thousand times — like Noah did — I would choose you in every single one.

Happy one year.

With love,

Mr. International”