Our love is not one of love at first sight. I remember the first time I had seen you with your dominant leg over that size five soccer ball, and the dreariness I had felt at having to meet what that had seemed like another idiot who looks like he is too cool for school. It was as if seeing arrogance drip out of your every pore was not enough; the first sentence that came out of your mouth was "You look like a librarian." The annoyance I had felt, and the need to hurl expletives at you were pretty hard to control. Then there was Denise, who placed her hand over my folded legs in response to your comment, and the slight shake of her head to remind me of the need to stay out of any other boy trouble. The only response I could give you thereafter was the activation of my zygomaticus major to lift my unyielding lips up into a smile.
I remember training hard under the guidance of coach, and my horrible ankles twisting into sprains with the easiest drills. I remember sitting on the synthetic field, sweating from sitting under the glorious sun while my team dried up from running like they did. On one of those days when I was making myself useful by picking up runaway balls, you came. You came and you spoke to me like we were the best of friends. "What are you doing in school with that handphone strap around your neck? You look like you're going out for shopping." "Why are you coming for training when you can't even join in? Do you have nothing else better to do?" I had only one sentence for you then. "Can you please shut up?"
My ankles took months on end to heal, and when they were up for it, I rejoined the ranks of my mates. I improved, and your pleasantries came more often. Coach started to tease both of us for we never had anything nice to say to each other when we were on the same terrain. The team caught on, and before long, we were the 'couple' on the field.
School started for you, and you stopped turning up for trainings. It was refreshing, not seeing your face or hearing the harsh comments you had to make about my uncoordinated body mechanics. Nonetheless, I received a rude shock when I saw your name appear under Friend Requests on Facebook. Denise too, when I saw her the next day and hollered that the most annoying person on Earth had sent me a friend request.
You left a wall post on my profile, and that was the first time that we had spoken to each other without me asking you to leave me alone. When my seniors did the job for me, you sent me a private message. We moved on to speaking on MSN in the same night, and there came a time when I started to look forward to seeing your name appear on my computer screen.
I gave you my number on the night you had to rush back to school to pass your friend a set of keys, and from then, there was never a night that I had gone to sleep without speaking to you.
Do you remember what happened after that?
We sent each other enough messages daily to knock out your old Samsung phone, leading to the 'upgrade' to a Nokia. We met up for our first movie after one of our Saturday trainings. Do you remember me telling the kids sitting behind us to sit still and keep quiet? Do you remember wanting to send me home, and have me remind you that you were already late for your soccer training?
Do you remember our second date at Great World City? We caught two movies that day, taking a break in between with L4D at a shop in the vicinity. Do you remember the extent to which they enlarged my 45mm by 35mm EZ-Link card photo? I do. Me slapping my forehead and asking the guy at the counter why the hell did he do that for, and the both of you chortling at my reaction. I remember me sulking while playing the game and shooting at your character instead of the zombies whenever I had the chance. I remember us going back for our second movie, and you promising that we will never go back to the same shop ever again. I also remember you shamelessly grabbing my hand while watching the movie: Land of the Lost. (Cue laughter)
I remember us walking out of the theatre, and you asking me if I had minded the gesture. I looked at you with incredulity, wondering how were you able to ask me such a straightforward question, looked away, and gave you the answer you wanted. You, being the douche bag you were, asked me the same question again with such earnestness that I had to turn back and deal you with my level 99 laser beams. You laughed in good humour and made a grab for my hand again.
That was four years ago. Do you remember all these? From the banters in our weekly encounters, to the never-ending conversation we have in our ever-changing gadgets. Do they extrapolate to what we have now? They may or may not, but do you know what, my love? I will always look up to the sky and know that wherever you are, you are doing the same; looking at the same sky like how our younger selves did.
You will forever be my always.
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