In the sixth grade, I asked her if she would be my girlfriend. She said no. 13 years passed before our paths met again on an evening with free cans of beer and rock music. Later that night, she sat on the back of my bicycle as the sun rose over Nørrebro. She became my first real girlfriend.
We were together for six years. But as the champagne and Sunday joints were taken over by everyday life and adulthood, we began to have problems. The transition from youth to adulthood was difficult for us. I moved out, and we didn’t see each other for six months.
We couldn’t live together, but we also couldn’t live without each other. This story is about rediscovering love, and to remember that it is never too late to give unique things a second chance.