I was only seventeen when I met Kostek. He was already twenty-four then. We first met at my cousin's birthday party. I, of course, fell in love with him at first sight, as I did at seventeen. From the moment I entered the room where he was sitting, I couldn't take my eyes off him. Having a boyfriend like that would be something, I thought. Completely different from my friends, the immature kids. He was handsome, smart, funny, and intimidating, which for me meant he was an adult, ripe for true relationships and undying love. It also mattered that my friends would burst with jealousy. I spent the entire evening trying to get his attention. I thought that loudly expressing my opinions in conversation and seductively dancing would be enough to achieve my goal.
And indeed, they were. I was sitting alone at a table when he sat down next to me. He shook my hand and introduced himself. I almost fainted from the shock. This guy, after all, was interested in me. I was in seventh heaven; for a moment, I flew into the clouds and felt pure, unadulterated joy, and the reason for it was him sitting so close to me. His physical presence sent me into an exalted state of adoration for him. From the moment I saw him, he became my idol, practically a deity. I wanted to admire him, lose myself in him, belong solely to his beautiful self. I loved him with all my love, as only a seventeen-year-old can. Limitlessly, unconditionally, and with my entire being. For one word from him, I was willing to give him my soul and my body. Back then, I still believed that people belonged together, that love could work miracles, and that every dream could come true if you wanted it. When I think about it now, I envy all those who still have that age ahead of them.
They will experience those magical, unrepeatable moments of first, truest love, of admiration for another person. No subsequent feeling will ever be as unconditional and metaphysical. Instead, it will always be compared, and even if it were infinitely better, there will always remain a feeling of some strange, incomprehensible lack. As if the puzzle of our lives were missing one piece. Only one, but so important to us. The lack of knowledge about our future, what our lives would look like with our first love. Another question that will forever remain unanswered.
That evening, I talked to Kostek about completely trivial things: the weather, the party, the upcoming vacation, his studies, my final exams.
But for me, it was the most important conversation of my life. I wanted that moment to last forever.
And when at six in the morning he offered to walk me home, I was so impressed I couldn't utter a word; I simply nodded in agreement, which meant I was delighted. But when he asked if we could meet again, I almost fainted from the shock. We arranged to meet the following Saturday. Lying in bed, I still couldn't believe that such a guy wanted to meet me. I was afraid to fall asleep, afraid it would all turn out to be just a beautiful dream.
The entire next week, I walked around excited and even proud. I felt like a princess who had met her prince. My self-esteem skyrocketed by about 200 percent and was skyrocketing. My friends were jealous when I told them about my Prince Charming. They wanted to see him to see if I was lying and to lower his value in their eyes, searching for every single flaw in his perfect persona. Meanwhile, I daydreamed my beautiful dream. I imagined what I would say when we met again, coming up with intelligent answers to every possible question he might ask. I spent the entire Saturday in the bathroom. My friends were giving me blonde highlights in my mousy hair. I painted my nails, applied meticulous makeup, and tried on what seemed like every outfit in my closet. All of this was to make sure my prince would be blown away when he saw me and wouldn't look at any other girl. From then on, I wanted to be his entire world; nothing else mattered to him. I was going to charm him, fascinate him, so he wouldn't be able to spend another day without me. That was my plan. When I heard the doorbell ring at seven, I nearly broke my legs running down the stairs to answer the door as quickly as possible.
I finally put on a black skirt and a cream blouse with a low neckline. Kostek gave me a rose, and we went on our first date. I thought we'd go to the cinema or a café, but instead he took me to a much better place. When my friends found out where we were, they were practically bursting with jealousy. We went to the best club in town, but that wasn't all; he knew the owner, which was something special. I was a seventeen-year-old girl in the best club in town, where they checked IDs at the entrance, with a great guy. It was like a wonderful dream, like a fairy tale. I'd never even dreamed of such a thing; it seemed too unreal. But then it became a complete reality. We sat down at a table, Kostek ordered drinks for us, and we talked about many serious matters—at least they seemed that way to me at the time.
That evening, I also met two of his friends. One was the owner of the club, Mateusz, and the other was a regular—Balu, although his real name was Tomasz, but few people knew that.
They seemed very nice to me. They sat down at our table and we chatted. Mateusz asked what I thought of his club, and I couldn't stop praising it. Balu talked about his work and a recent client who wanted insurance against his wife's ideas, who had a rather strange, extreme way of spending her free time and was dragging her husband, who was afraid of everything, into it. From riding in elevators to having sex. I had a wonderful time in their company. They impressed me on every level. From their age to their sense of humor, and the fact that they treated me like an adult.
When Kostek drove me home at eleven and kissed me goodbye, I felt my legs give out under the influence of the evening, the best of my life so far. For me, that day began a new, fairytale life with my wonderful prince. I was ready to do anything to make that moment last forever.
*
Over time, our friendship grew, and we began seeing each other more often, almost daily. We'd go clubbing or to the cinema. I really liked Mati and Balu, who often accompanied us. After a few months, I felt at home at the club. I felt like I'd grown up, and I'd learned everything. I couldn't understand my parents, who still told me to be home at eleven.
I eagerly awaited my eighteenth birthday, when I'd become an adult and they couldn't tell me what to do. How naive you are at that age.
Only later do you begin to understand that our parents support us, and this gives them the right to decide about our lives. Besides, they are much wiser, not because they've mastered all the basics, but because they possess acquired life wisdom. But who would listen to them at 17 and in true love? Every teenager has their own truth about life and wants to decide for themselves, make serious decisions that are usually ill-considered and wrong, but this is realized a few years later, when it's usually too late to correct the mistakes of youth. Everyone has to go through this, make their own mistakes, and experience moments of great tragedy due to dashed hopes and euphoric joys of first love.
Meanwhile, I was too in love to accept the views of my parents, who, in my opinion, had already lived their lives. What could a seventeen-year-old girl, raised in a hothouse, who thought her future would be like a fairy tale, know about real life?
*
In June, I graduated from school, and Kostek and I started seeing each other almost every day. We spent more and more time at his apartment. I cooked him dinner while he was at work. After the session, he found a job at a computer company as a programmer. It was in line with his studies, and he was interested in computers. His apartment had all the computer equipment available. However, he wasn't a geek, and fortunately for me, he didn't spend all his free time on it. On the contrary, he devoted it to me, which was very flattering. Like the little girl I was, I played house, and it seemed like the most wonderful experience in the world. I thought I'd discovered my calling; I decided to become a housewife. And since I was doing so well, the thought crossed my mind that maybe Kostek and I could get married and live together, and my parents would finally stop nagging me about spending too much time with him. I spend all day with him because I love him, and my parents are past that, and that's why they were nervous, or so I thought at the time. Their marriage seemed like a rigid structure that shouldn't exist, and I considered their relationship unhealthy and abnormal. Of course, like ninety percent of children, I promised myself my marriage would be completely different.
I didn't realize then that most marriages were like this. They focused on work, everyday matters, sometimes argued, and occasionally had great outbursts. My marriage, meanwhile, was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be based on love, respect, and infatuation
.
Meanwhile, in July, I finally turned 18. It fell in July. I also had another anniversary to celebrate: we'd been Kostek for five months, and I loved him fiercely; it seemed to me that he cared about me too. We had a great time together, got along great, and enjoyed each other's company. However, he hadn't said the magic word I'd been waiting for. We hadn't had sex yet.
He hadn't insisted, and his kisses and caresses were enough for me, sending shivers of desire through me, but we always stopped there. I loved him and appreciated him even more for that. On my eighteenth birthday, Kostek, along with my parents, Mateusz, and Balu, prepared a surprise party for me at a club. It seemed like the greatest gift I could have received, but I received the real one at night. My parents even gave me a gift in the morning, so as not to reveal the secret. In the evening, Kostek picked me up, and as usual, we went to the club, so I wasn't suspicious. I only realized it when we walked in, and it was pitch dark. Mateusz brought a flaming cake into the room, and everyone started singing happy birthday. Among the guests were my parents, classmates, and people I'd met at the club.
I was pleasantly surprised and felt like a princess again. The party was fantastic. We danced the night away. And I felt incredibly good as prom queen. I was admired by my friends, and the boys adored me. That was the life I wanted, and at the time, it seemed to me that nothing could stop me from having it.
My parents went home early, and I took advantage of the opportunity, under the guise of an extended party, to spend the night with Kostek. Until then, my parents hadn't allowed me to stay overnight with him. I had more freedom since they met him, and I could come home after noon, but I was always expected to come home. That night, we made love for the first time. Kostek was wonderful, gentle, sensitive to my needs, subtle, and romantic.
He thought of everything, protected himself, and made love to me gently, while at the same time greedily devouring my body with his hands, his mouth, his whole being.
He gave me incredible pleasure. And then, when we were lying naked next to each other, he whispered in my ear what I needed to hear. He said he loved me and that I was an amazing woman. What touched me most was that he called me a woman, that he treated me seriously and like a mature partner, not a little girl. At least that's what I thought at the time. What I didn't know, however, was that a guy knows perfectly well what a girl wants to hear at a given moment and eagerly exploits it to achieve his intended goal. And the fact that he loved me meant he actually felt something for me. However, I'm not sure he knew the meaning of the word "love." His feelings were fascination, affection, but these feelings hadn't yet had a chance to develop into true love, the kind that endures everything, believes everything, places hope in everything.
One thing was certain: that vacation was wonderful. A lot changed in my life.
I became a serious, adult woman, at least that's how I imagined myself. I had the love of my life and wonderful new friends. I was enriched by many adult experiences. In September, I returned to school for my final year; this year, I was taking my final exams. My relationship with Kostek didn't hinder my studies, as my parents had feared. On the contrary, he inspired me, gave me strength, courage, and sometimes I even felt wisdom.
He motivated me to learn, to be even better. He was writing his master's thesis; for him, it was his last year of university, too. He didn't give up his job, either, where he'd been offered a full-time position.
The next year flew by at an alarming pace. I was studying for my final exams and gaining the semblance of adulthood. Suddenly, I realized I'd changed dramatically. I was standing out from my classmates, who were just beginning to explore their first big crushes, while I was in a serious relationship.
My classmates seemed childish to me, and my friends' problems were no longer my own. I had a different life, different friends, different problems. While my friends were raving about their first kiss, I wondered if I was already pregnant. Despite this, I didn't feel any loss, as if I'd missed out on anything. On the contrary, I felt honored, grown up, and loved, which was most important. Kostek was a wonderful person. Beyond the superficial qualities that attracted me to him, he was intelligent, sensitive, and mature, which impressed me most. All these qualities of his that fascinated me inspired my parents to trust and like him.
They gave me a lot of freedom; I no longer had to be home by eleven. We still spent most evenings at the club, where I felt at home.
I knew every nook and cranny of the place and even sometimes stood behind the bar, filling in for Mati. I really liked him and Balu; you could say I became friends with them. I was impressed that grown men
treated me, a minor, as an equal. Balu, however, particularly intrigued me. He was almost twenty-eight when I met him. He worked at a financial consulting firm. He was the most serious of the three, always seeming lost in thought. He was usually absorbed in his own affairs. He was a loner by choice, that's what Mateusz called him. There was a certain mystery about him that intrigued and attracted women. He was always surrounded by beautiful girls, trying to win him over in a million ways, but he acted as if he didn't notice. He was like an impregnable fortress. Some even wondered if he preferred the opposite sex, but that wasn't the case. From Kostek's stories, I knew he once had a girlfriend he loved very much, perhaps too much, but she died in a car accident. It happened nine years ago, and he'd been single ever since. From time to time, he'd be seen with a girl, but these were fleeting whims filled with sex and nothing more.
One day, we were sitting alone at a table in a club, and once again, a girl gave Balu a meaningful look and asked him jokingly,
"Why don't you pay attention to all those beautiful women who want to be yours at all costs?" He just laughed and replied,
"I can't hit on other women when I'm with one of them," he said, giving me a mischievous smile.
"Don't make fun of me," I scolded him jokingly, especially since I was flattered by his words. "
But I didn't mean to, and if you want to know, none of them have enough warmth, sensitivity, inner strength, and beauty to make me interested in them."
"I know you'll meet her someday," I told him, one hundred percent certain of my statement. As only a young teenager in love can be, refusing to acknowledge that there's no such thing as two halves of the same apple. Besides, a guy as great as he couldn't be alone; he had to share his goodness, sensitivity, love, and wisdom with another person. And at eighteen, you still possess that precious gift of believing in two halves of an apple, true love at first sight, great raptures, and catastrophic breakups and reunions. When I think about it, I kind of regret that with age, one loses that naive faith in goodness and love that befalls all good people.
Faith in the justice of this world gives strength and courage to fight for oneself daily. Meanwhile, some girls remain single forever, and bad things happen to good people too.
Perhaps the worst moment in a person's life, and in adolescence, is the realization that fate and life aren't fair at all. When a young person begins to see shades of gray in a world that was previously black and white, they lose their childish faith and innocence. It's then that we discover our great gift of free choice, usually an easy choice, for which we later pay a high price, sometimes too high.
Back then, I still believed in a black and white world and that good always triumphs.
*
And for now, I had the vision of my final exams, but before that, my prom.
The entire week leading up to this most important and beautiful ball of my life, I ran from store to store looking for the right dress.
Ultimately, I chose a long, black one with a deep slit in the front. From the morning, I was excited about the prospect of prom with my beloved. Kostek picked me up an hour early, and on the way, we stopped for a glass of champagne at a club.
The boys were delighted with my appearance; I knew the dress fit perfectly and complemented my blond hair, which was meticulously styled in a bun. My makeup accentuated my large, dark eyes. I felt like a true queen, adored by my subjects. Balu urged me to dance, thinking it wasn't fair that Kostek would have the only pleasure. As we danced to a rather slow song, I noticed Balu watching me with curiosity, if not admiration. I glanced at him, but immediately looked away, embarrassed. I was flattered by his attention, but Kostek was the love of my life, and although Balu intrigued me greatly and was a wonderful friend, I didn't even want to consider him a man. He was just a friend, and it was best to keep it that way, for all of us. In that chat room, I was a loyal teenager who interpreted every glance from a man as a sign that he was hitting on her, which was strictly forbidden, because she had a boyfriend.
Balu, however, noticed my confusion and asked,
"What happened, princess? Why are you so confused?
" "No," she replied, because I didn't want him to misunderstand me, and besides, I didn't know how to react to his attention.
"I see, you're not lying to me," he pressed, not making things any easier for me.
So I decided not to hide anything and to tell my feelings honestly, as I would to a friend. It's through understatements that the worst tragedies happen between people. So I gathered my courage and said,
"Balu, I like you very much, but I love Kostka, and always will, and we will always be friends. I want you to know that, so there will be no misunderstandings between us. I hope you'll respect that."
"Julka, what's the matter? You didn't think that the fact that I was looking at you with admiration meant I wanted to break up your relationship with Kostek, did you?" At that moment, I felt incredibly stupid, like a silly little girl. Meanwhile, he continued, "I'm looking at you because you're beautiful and intelligent. But you're both my friends, and you don't do things like that to friends. Besides, I'm eleven years older than you. Now run off to your prince and have fun," he said, and walked me to my table.
I'd never felt so embarrassed.
Prom was wonderful, we had a blast; years later, I can say it was the best prom of my life. Kostek did everything to make sure I had a good time. He was charming and made me feel like the queen of the ball, the most beautiful, the most loved, and the most adored. But I kept thinking about Kostek. How could I have thought he was hitting on me? She acted like a foolish teenager, not like the mature woman I wanted to become as quickly as possible. Later, I thought that maybe it was just a defense against my attack, maybe he actually felt something for me, but it was too stupid to admit it. We women are strange and incredibly complex creatures. A man only needs to say one word, and we analyze it in a million different ways, finding so many subtexts that it wouldn't even occur to him that he could be understood that way.
Now I know that this fades with age. We become calmer, we listen to what they say and don't look for hidden meanings. We try to understand them as they want to be understood. We also become more direct and more likely to ask what they meant by this or that, rather than practicing black magic trying to decipher their words. In any case, we never returned from the Ball to that conversation again. I was increasingly absorbed in my Kostek, and Balu spent less time alone with me.
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