Years before Samantha Gardeski, my eighth grade crush, broke my heart, I met the first love of my life. I was five, and it was intensely serious. I poured entire afternoons, and built up some sugar highs just to be near her. Of course I was young, so I wasn’t really good with my sword yet. I was sloppy, and careless, but I wanted to get to her so bad. She spent most of her time with this guy that really, truly resembled a pig physically and characteristically, but I was intent on making her mine. I could have be any nameless sap to her, and my friends said that the game was too hard, and I should try something easier. But I had courage on my side. I didn’t care how, but I was going to get my princess, my Zelda.
And it’s true what they say. That first relationship, that first love of your life sets the precedent for the rest of them. I spent my high school years trying to steal girls away from pigs, and never giving up on lost causes. I spent my college years trolling through dark rooms and phantom hands grabbing at me, dragging me through the depths.
I’ve spent more time than I care too learning how to master my sword with precision, and to shield myself from anything bad that comes my way. I’ve tried to have patience, and lost my temper. I’ve had o constantly fall on your ass, and had long debates with myself over hitting the continue button. But I’m a stubborn bastard, and I know in one of these dank rooms, with annoying music, I’ll find her, and I’ll get her.
