Fear/ Her/ Death

I have it all. Or so it seems like. I’m smart, attractive, and to top it all off an athlete. According to the intoxicated slurred words of Diana, my maybe-so-ex-who-I-never-DTR’d with, it is a blessing and a curse, as we walked back from a party, into the dark airy night that screamed summer romance. She said she didn’t see me enough or rather “I didn’t make enough time for her.” I know, I seem like the worst maybe-boyfriend ever, but she needs to understand I’m busy. I cared for Diana, it’s just soccer and academics come first. Always. The hustle is real for athletes. People think athletes are just a bunch of meat heads that don’t care about academics, that we only care about three things: booze, ass, and being cool. But that’s such a two-dimensional perception of us. We are more than that. We are people. Notice how I didn’t deny it, because to a certain extent it’s true. Just in different degrees, for everyone, not just for athletes. We’re all just trying to fool ourselves and others. So, what about me? Yes, I sadly subscribe to these ideals but to a lower degree than others. I have dreams bigger than just soccer. It’s just a means I use to get me through college. I hope to be more than the immigrant dream my parents crossed the border for at twenty. I want to be everything that they couldn’t be. More than the hands that wash your grimy toilets to a spotless shine, more than the hands that serve you steaming hot plates of sizzling fajitas when you’re feeling Mexican food today. I don’t want to work with my hands but with my head. This means I have to ace my exams to keep playing soccer, to graduate, and then one day get a job. Yet, despite spending rushed mornings smelling like coffee then evenings spent with beads of sweats running down my body after practice, every night I lay in bed thinking when she will finally come to my life. Not Diana but the girl who with one glance sends my heart into a chaotic vibration until it’s left defenseless to the rest of her beauty. Maybe I didn’t feel that with Diana, but I wanted to. I really did. I rushed into whatever that poorly defined relationship was with her because in the end, maybe my biggest fear after all is... that I will die alone, without ever meeting her.