A football match

Yesterday I was flipping through TV and I came across a football match. Manchester United vs Everton, it said, and memories came rushing back to me. I went back in my bedroom, just before the tears slipped down my face.

I went back to another one of those nights, Machester United vs Everton I think. I’m not sure. But it was an important match, and things weren’t going so well for the team before. You were going to a local bar to watch the match, and I had wished you luck. If only you knew, I wanted to talk to you because things weren’t going so well for me either. But that’s not on you. You told me you’d call me anyway, and I waited till about 2 am. I woke up next morning for college, with my phone in my hand. No calls.

I was being emotional, I rolled my eyes myself. It was just fine to miss a call, or two, or ten. Things happen. Football is important, and you’d told me that you would choose the sport over me. I had accepted it. I went to college and I learned about Piaget’s experiment for about the third time, and then we spoke about the techniques Oscar Wilde used in his play. And I had my favorite food. My friend drew a tattoo on my hand, one with your name on it, but it would get washed out in the rain. I felt my heart sink, when I saw your name was nothing but a smudge on my wrist.

Such a vivid memory, for some strange reason. And so many seemingly unimportant, yet glaringly detailed memories I fight with every single day. Those important days, I feel a burden on my heart and I barely make it through those. When someone asks me about you, I stumble a little before I tell them the truth. “It didn’t work out,” I say, wishing things were different. You still linger in my mind and I still sometimes check my phone for your call. I deleted the contact, but I would recognize your number in an instant.

But perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t call me. Because we had our differences and trust was broken. I lost the blind faith I had, and as did you lose a lot, I’m sure. Maybe you hate me for breaking promises, but I was so scared. I was running away from a fate I witnessed way too many women suffer, and I could not let myself be weak. You, of all people must understand, at 16 I let myself be weak and I still have the scars. And so I ran and ran until I was alone.

I am still angry, and I am still hurt. I still see you in my nightmares and wake up to remind myself that I am far away, no harm can come to me. But I still do wish you to be happy. I wish you to be safe and move on, and most of all to cherish the time we had together, as I will too, one day. And most of all, I found myself wishing Machester United wins the match.


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