The nurses said you had amnesia and were then admitted to a psychiatric hospital. That was the first time I met you while I had my own problems and kept them secret in a dark room somewhere next to my narrow bed.
One afternoon you and the crowd you created with other patients made me fall for you. Maybe even before that, when you curiously looked at my tattoo that I was so proud of.
"Do you want to play chess?" you asked with your typical template smile
I stopped in time and asked for a moment, is that me you are asking? I wish I could hug you right then and there. If only I could embrace your little body that I saw trembling in tears while hiding. If only I hadn't hidden myself and found you years ago.
"Oh, okay. Let's play chess."
Through the play of these two people, I feel like I can keep you to myself even though we are in the midst of people chatting, faint music, and a nurse playing with her cellphone. You're mine,
right?
After that, I just watched you from the corner of the living room here. I don't dare to say I fell in love with you, it feels too deep and too simple for feelings that are complex and make me this turbulent.
You invited me to play badminton, not me alone but also other people. We don't play to win or lose, I think I play to have you in time, but you, you who are fun and warm, belong to everyone.
You suddenly sent me poetry that was more beautiful than the paintings I had ever absorbed and loved. I, finally, know you also have the same feelings.
The last day at the psychiatric hospital you saw me being picked up by my wife and our child. I see myself in your sparkling eyes. I see us over and done with. I miss your smile that once shone in my dark room, but I need to go home.