We met again...
I fell in love with Chelsey in high school, which was, I have to admit, quite a long time ago.
I was a typical science nerd and she... well, she was - and I can say this without exaggeration - the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. But she was not only beautiful, she was also clever and kind and never bullied me, like some other kids, despite being one of the most popular girls in the class. Needless to say, she did have a boyfriend. A really nice guy, but I hated him deeply, as I naively thought that he was the only obstacle to us being together. Stupid, I know, but back then I was only a young boy, so I hope you will forgive me for my groundless jealousy. Later, I heard the rumors that soon after college she got pregnant and married her sweetheart... Tim that was his name.
I succeeded in the scientific field, but never succeeded in forgetting Chelsey. I used to ruin all my relationships, one after another, without even giving them a chance... Once, I came across an article in a local newspaper about a terrible car accident: a 47 year old man got hit by a car, while helping an elderly lady across the street. The man I saw in a picture looked disturbingly familiar. Suddenly, I realized it was Tim, Timothy Humphrey - Chelsey’s husband! I was shocked. You know, I always took comfort in a thought that at least Her personal life was happy, unlike mine. And now - this... I found Chelsey’s phone number in the phonebook and called her to present my condolences.
After some time, we started seeing each other more often and I couldn't help it: I felt like I was getting more and more attracted to her, just like in high school, only on a much deeper level, as if my feelings had to mature like a bottle of good red wine. Surprisingly, I could see that Chelsey was attracted to me too... But none of us dared to make the first step, especially after what had happened to Tim. I was also afraid of Chelsey’s now adult son’s reaction. In short, it took me nearly three years to come up to her and kiss the love of my love. Hey, wait: not three years, but rather thirty three!