“There is nothing wrong with being selfish,” he continued. “Gymnastics, once you reach a certain level, becomes your entire life and everyone is just revolving around you. It is all about you meeting your goals, you competing, you spending hours upon hours in a gym fighting to be the best. It is climbing a rope and everyone is just sitting back watching you. You have to give one hundred and fifty percent with this sport. Gymnastics, in a sense, is all about you.”
Rope. I smiled to myself at his gymnastics analogy. Most people said climb mountains, but he used rope since part of conditioning for many athletes was rope climbing.
“I hadn’t really thought of it like that before. I mean, in a sense, you’re right, but isn’t everyone selfish in some form then? Why a gymnast more so than others?”
He shook his head, disagreeing. “It is not the same.”
I knew what he meant, and he was right. It wasn’t the same. Most people were selfish to an extent. This was a personal drive trapped inside no one could help with, except one thing. A coach who understood. Gymnastics was like a drug. No matter how many times we got knocked down, no matter how many injuries we sustained, no matter how many times we’re told we’re not good enough, not the best, we always came back for more. It was a need that ignored all those around until it was filled, no matter the length of time it took. A gymnast’s drive outweighed everyone else’s and it never died.
“You know, I would almost rather have a bronze medal than have a silver,” he said, changing the subject.
“Why’s that?”
Kova shrugged one shoulder, as if the answer was obvious. “Silver is the first place loser.”
My eyes widened. I’d never thought of it like that when I’d won silver at meets.
“Coming in second place is the worst feeling after you just gave your all. There are winners and there are losers. You play a sport to win—that is it. Nothing else. You have one chance to prove yourself. One.” He shook his head, his eyes distant as he reminisced about the past. “I remember feeling completely and utterly gutted, like I was just given a consolation prize for all my hard work. I was up on the podium, thinking about what I could have done differently. Did I wobble? Did I take a step on a dismount? Did I bend my legs? Did I not have enough control in flight? Did I not train enough? I knew I should have been happy I secured silver, but it was not enough to win gold, and that was heart wrenching.” He looked at me as if trying to remember what he did wrong. “You can lose it all by a tenth of a deduction. So small, yet so powerful it can bring you to your knees in a mere second. It all happens so fast, you know? Once the flame is lit, the Games begin. You are there, in the moment, living it, breathing it, fighting for your dream. You are at each event for such a short period of time until you rotate to the next one. Once you get home and you finally have the chance to think about your experience, you have to ask yourself if it was real because it does not feel like it. It is like a blurry movie you want to tune and focus, but cannot…”
Kova’s words trailed off. He gave me a questionable look, as if he wanted an answer I didn’t have. His words stung my chest. I could hear the vulnerability in his voice, felt each word as he relived his past and tried to cope with it. The sincerity written on his face was full of meaning and emotion, and what he said packed a punch. He spoke from his heart, and I felt every bit of it.
This was a pivotal moment between us. He stood so close his words trailed over my skin, igniting a flame under me. He’d exposed deeply personal parts of his life again and it unknowingly opened a connection between us. I felt it, saw it. His eyes bore into mine and his lips slightly parted, a little opening in the center of them. The silence in the air caused a stirring. Without saying another word and with his eyes trained on mine, he lifted a hand and moved a lock of hair from my shoulder, tucking it behind my ear. A shiver ran down my arms as the back of his hand delayed, his finger peppering my jaw with the lightest touch possible. He stepped closer to me and I held my breath as his eyes took in every inch of me. His knuckles danced down my neck to my clavicle, his callused index finger gliding over me like a soft breeze.
“I bet your mom was proud of your silver medals,” I said softly.
Kova’s face dropped, his smile vanishing along with his hand. His eyes took on a blank stare and I suddenly regretted my comment.
“She was. She was proud of everything I did. She was my biggest supporter.”
I swallowed hard. “How long ago did she pass away?”
Kova took a deep breath and exhaled. “Eight years ago,” he said delicately.
My heart sank even more at the sadness in his tone. Instinctively, my hand reached out to comfort him.
“I’m so sorry.”
I rubbed his arm, my thumb going in circles. It wasn’t a wise decision, but I think I did it mostly because I felt his loss so strongly I wanted to soothe him. He flexed under my touch and his eyes shot to mine. I dropped my hand and cleared my throat awkwardly.
Kova shook it off.
“Was it cancer?” I asked curiously.
“I wish it could have been that.”
He wished it could have been that? “What do you mean?”
Him being vague wasn’t working for me, but that was Kova. Always so elusive. I wasn’t sure I should use the opening to ask more questions, so I stayed silent and waited for him to collect his thoughts.
“Since we have been upfront and truthful with each other…She was HIV positive,” he whispered quietly.
My jaw dropped, along with my gut. HIV. I was glad we hadn’t eaten yet, otherwise with all this tumbling between my heart and stomach, I’d probably vomit right now. That was extremely personal and not at all what I expected. Not one bit.
Wait a minute. If she was HIV positive, then that would mean…
My eyes popped, my head snapped to look at him. “I do not have HIV,” he answered my questioning stare. “She contracted it many years after I was born.” Kova sighed sadly, looking into his beer mug. “I would not be in this profession if that were the case.”
I was about to ask how she contracted HIV when a woman walked in, looking radiant as ever with a perfect sway to her hips.