Celestial Love (Anthony Rizzo)

.23. Maybe

Celeste

As August comes to a close I realize that my least favorite season was right around the corner, and that would be football season.

The game of football itself is quite an amazing game. I love how there's so many different positions but they have to work together in order to make the magic happen. I love the intensity and the probabilities. But my love for football is shaken, it's not gone. There's guys on these Bears teams I have quite enjoyed watching play, and a few of their wives and girlfriends I enjoyed being around. The organization itself has done quite a good job of constructing good teams and keeping them competitive.

But once you get into the treatment of these players and their families the love you feel slowly dies off. James treats some of these players like they are just one of his assistants. They're not, they're wide receivers or linemen who aren't there to take the fall for when James messes up. According to him it is never his fault, never. And that makes him the kind of player that's high risk and high reward. The coaches know, the players know, the analysts know. The only one who doesn't know is James.

He had a rough season last year. In 2014 and 2015 he won it all and was MVP both years, then last year they lost in the divisional game and it wasn't really close. He is in redemption mode but the only person he's trying to redeem is himself.

As the preseason wraps up I find myself trying to enjoy the last of the sunny days here in the city. Winter was something atrocious in Chicago and I wanted to enjoy what little heat we have left.

So I change into a swim suit and head to the rooftop pool. No one was up here which was nice so I lay out on my towel by the pool. I put on sun screen and bake for a while before getting into the water. I was never really one of the girls that just wanted to sit out by the pool. One of the few places I feel relaxed is in the water and so I take long showers and baths and I'll stand out in the rain. I find it calming, even if there's thunder. Storms often reflect the conflict I feel within and I feel seen in the storms.

I close my eyes as I rest in the side of the pool. The sun still shines through my eyelids as I let out a deep breath. My mind wanders like it often does trying to think up of a better situation than the one I am in.

Naturally my mind goes to Anthony. I start to think up of situations like if things were different and it was him and I instead. Maybe in another life I marry him, we have kids and we get to go visit grandma in Seattle all the time. Maybe we get to go to the children's hospital and put some smiles on their face together. Maybe it wouldn't be perfect, but I know it would be better than this. I would probably be in a food coma all the time because he loves to eat and he always makes sure I eat too. Maybe we would be able to see the world because I know there is so much more than what this city has. Maybe every day would feel like the honeymoon.

Maybe.

I know it's not good to think about the what if's. To speculate on what isn't, but when what is is so awful these little day dreams are all I got. This is how I keep going, with the idea that this is how things used to be but maybe, just maybe, that is how they can be.

After a few hours I get out of the pool and dry off to the side. I was chilling for a while before the sun disappears and I finally open my eyes. I see James standing there in his swim trunks with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Mind if I join you" he asks.

"I mean you pay to live here" I tease.

He sets his towel next to mine and lays down next to me. I hated that he looked that good, god I wish he was ugly. Maybe it would humble him a little. But he was sexiest man in Chicago so there's that.

"Do you hate me" he asks.

"I don't believe in hate. It's a awful thing to carry in your heart. It's like a poison that you put in someone else's drink but it ends up in your drink too. Sure if you hate someone the other person would suffer, but not more than you would" I explain.

"So you don't hate me" he concludes.

"No James, I don't hate you" I assure him.

"But you don't like me either" he replies.

I stay silent as I just close my eyes. How he is this self aware but not enough to realize how much I hate it here sucks.

"That's okay if you don't like me. I get it" he tries. Always trying to make himself the victim. I'm honestly used to it at this point.

"I never said I didn't like you" I remind him.

"But you can't say that you do. And that's okay" he insists.

"How is that okay" I wonder.

"You don't always have to like your partner. Shit happens" he says.

"And what has happened that makes you think I don't like you anymore" I question.

"We fight a lot. And we have fought before but it feels like since your mom got sick all we do is fight. I thought it was because you were stressed about her health but she's better now and we still fight. And I know you cry a lot. I don't get why, but you never come to me so I just try to ignore it" he explains.

"Well that's because you're the reason I cry" I remind him.

"But I don't understand why" he admits.

"I tell you all the time why I'm upset with you. Whether it is you constantly cheating on me or ignoring me or treating me like a servant and not your wife. You starve me and drain me just so I have to do what you say for my own well being then have the nerve to belittle me for feeling the way I do just like you are now. Every time I tell you why I'm no longer happy with you it's shine shitty excuse as to how hard it is to be a professional athlete and that this is the way things have to be. Then you force me on a unwanted vacation or buy me something expense and expect it to fix stuff when that is half the problem. I don't want your shit James all I wanted was to be your wife. Not your assistant, not your property. Your wife. I tell you all the time how to fix things and all you had to do was listen and care, it's not that you don't understand, it's that you don't want to" I accuse.

"I don't want to change" he confesses.

"I know. But I don't know how much longer I can be your little doll" I admit.

"I've done everything just to make you happy" he claims. What does this man know about my happiness?

"Then tell me this James, what makes me happy" I demand.

He doesn't respond simply because he doesn't know. He knows what makes him happy, he knows what I can do that makes him happy. But my happiness is a mystery to him.

"The crazy thing is for the longest I didn't know what made me happy too. You trained me like a damn dog to eat out at your restaurants, go to places you approve of, talk to the short list of people you like. But where am I in all this you? What makes me happy? I know what it's not. It's not nice clothes or expensive jewelry. It's not football or sitting in here all day or trailing you like a dog. No one can be happy living this way, with all the rules and being starved and being made up... I am tired. So tired of this" I tell him.

"So what needs to happen" he questions.

"Nothing you're willing to do" I assure him.

"So what? You're just going to continue on knowing you don't like me" he accuses.

"I'm going to have to live with maybe. Maybe I'll find my love for you once again. Maybe you'll come to your senses and see that me being you wife doesn't equal you having my rights as a human being to do things that make me happy. Maybe... just maybe... we were never meant to be."