Chess, perfume and bad lungs

I guess you could call us cheezy if you like, that's how he would describe everything from the very begging of our relationship to the point where we actually got married. Valentine's day gifts - cringe, random gifts showing affection and love - unnecessary expences. I have no idea how we actually worked together so well, me being a hopeless romantic and him a realist. We would have never even met if not for the chess, old perfume and my bad lungs.

It was one of those worm September nights where you are already back in school but the timetable is not made yet, you only have a few classes a day and overall it just doesn't feel like the summer is over yet. We were both sixteen, him a few months younger then me, allowing me to constantly make fun of him and my friends to make fun of me for dating a younger guy. Around that time there was a stigma how a girl is supposed to always date someone older, otherwise, the relationship would not last. That's what I thought at first. I was the new girl at school, him the popular boy, a bit of a bully, all in all, a classic rom-com movie. In every hall of our school used to be a chessboard. It was probably useless intentions of our teachers to make us play something worthy for our time rather than run outside giggling to find a corner to smoke a cigarette or two. Never have I seen anyone touch or even look in the direction of those boards until one day I stayed behind in class trying to find where I put my lighter and I saw him quietly sneaking in a different direction to everyone else and sitting down to a board. I was intrigued but could not be bothered enough so I found what I was looking for and left. Still, peace of him stayed with me. So I started looking and paying more attention to him. During lessons extremely hyperactive, annoying even, making stupid jokes and throwing stuff over everyone's heads to his friends. Not the brightest people those popular ones. I was quite sure of it. But during breaks, it was like he transformed. Quietly he would sit and play alone analyzing every move, eyebrows raised as if he shocked himself. One day I received the news that one of my lungs is almost in critical condition. I will need surgery and obviously will never be able to pick up a pack of cigarettes ever again. After I came back to school after a few tiring weeks spent in the hospital I had nowhere to go during the long breaks. I decided to make my move because at that point I found him as much intriguing as cute. Who else if not me, when else if not now. Confidently I picked fished every bit of bravery I had in my petite body and sat down in front of him. He looked at me questionably.

"Teach me," I ordered. Then my cheeks turned red. Maybe I shouldn't have been as aggressive.

He smiled, thought about it for a second. "I don't remember you. I do quite recall your smell though. It's all over my locker this year and every time I grab my jacket I wonder who this angelic nectar belongs to."

I was confused a weirded out a bit. "Is that your weird way of agreeing?"

It was. We spent every minute of that year in a small corner of the corridor. Playing, discussing, arguing. Eventually making jokes, talking and laughing.

I was so scared to fall in love. Love meant a lot to me. As a source of joy and as a source of pain. You always want to have something to rely on, who you could to talk to, but as human beings are we actually capable of that kind of feeling or is it just a show, a play and we will pretend until the rest of our lives? Mostly these days around I saw imitations of love, and sometimes even very accurate copies. The couples would walks hand in hand and immediately they would get encouragement from others, how good, how perfect they look together. And in fact, the couple holds each other only because when they release their hands, that one-day love will fall out of their hearts and be left to lay broken when they turn away from each other and pray to God no longer see each other in life. I was scared of this, didn't want my heart to break again. I was fine being alone, honestly, like when people said that they need someone else to not feel so alone I didn't quite get it. Of course, I had some kind of a hole in me, but it was filled all the time by meaningless short relationships. So I held back a while, stalling. Even when he asked me to date him, properly, with flowers and everything, even when we quietly kissed over that same chessboard. But finally, I gave in. Three years passed by and we had to leave for college. Completely different countries. I was quite sure we would not survive long distance, we couldn't go a few days without seeing each other. We were stronger then we seemed. We survived like that not only four years like it was planned at first, but then another two when he got drafted. A period of many tears and love letters. Short calls with only a few warm words being managed to squeeze in. I hated it but it was all worth it in the end. He was worth it. Now, looking back I could not imagine my life going in any different direction, it was always meant to be like this - me and my only love, living happily for five decades and getting ready for a hundred more because together we are infinity and together we are the strength that pulls energy out of the earth itself.