we were on a bus to an away game. I kept nodding off. sitting near the back of the bus when I hear someone say my name. "Yes?" I mumbled in a groggy voice. G, Coach G to me, sat in the seat across from me and laughed. "How's Vic?" I..."h-he's great.....We're doing good". Suddenly I was very awake....and aware of the hole in my chest. G shook my shoulder "just teasing. Hey, we're 5 minutes away so put on you're cleats" I rushed to put them on. Desperate to distract myself. I decided I was going to win this game for you. I decided I would leave all the pain on the field. I took my position. the whistle blew. "For him"
-and I did
Why aren't you talking? Please don't ask me that. please. Are you ok? You think I ever was? how could I? You always brush it off! you can't force me to tell you the pain of my heart. How dare you. Do you feel entitled to know every scar on my skin, every fear in my head? I'm saving you from myself, don't you see? I don't want your pity or fake apologies. I want him. please. him.
-the week leading up to our anniversary
I've grown so much, I've been told. That I'm skinnier. Stronger. Faster. I'm disciplined, I've been told. Getting home late from practice, then studying until I fall asleep. Hardworking. Determined. I'm mature, I've been told. Giving advice on topics no one thought I had experience in. Dating. Distance. I'm such a mom, I've been told. The 6th graders on my team slowly becoming my children. Tying their cleats and packing extra food for games. Caring. Gentle. They never questioned why. Like the world treated me kindly and so I returned the favor.
-the world did no such thing
The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck. A book that is more philosophical than the title leads you to believe. The trick-as this book has shown me-isn't about not caring or turning the other cheek to opposition. It's looking it dead in the eyes and saying "I don't give a fuck about you, im ganna keep fighting" doesn't matter how strong you are. Just don't give a fuck.
-and so I keep fighting
The greatest pain, is never my own. Neither is my greatest joy.
-it's watching yours
I thought true love only existed in books. So I left my hopes in the bookmark.
-how wrong I was
How lucky are we to have each other? How are we so perfectly in tune with the other? So in love that our hearts beat faster at the sound our names? So lucky to be determined to be and stay an us? To trust one another?
-we are so blessed
Of course, I miss you. But I'd rather miss you, than not have you at all. I think about that all the time. You, my one and only.
-maybe I'm a sinner for complaining
and of course,
I love you
To the moon and back💜
Monster by dodie
Location by Khalid
Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes
Niagra en Bicicleta by Juan Luis Guerra
