Only Friends

Chapter 42 - Wembley

AUTHORS NOTE (07/06/2023)
Beware that this was written nearly a year before the actual euros took place and the winners and losers in the story may be different from what happened in reality

As England was set to play Holland in the finals, I started to get worried. I really wanted Jill to win, she deserved it after everything she had been through.
A couple days before the game, I was facetiming her. Although we were in the same city, she was staying with her team in the hotel. She was sharing a room with Viv, both excited but nervous to play in the final.

"Me and Kris are planning a holiday to Steph's beach house, you will come right?" I asked her, as we were both lying on our beds.
"Sounds like a plan," she replied, her Dutch accent peaking through. I smiled at this excited knowing she wants to get away after the final with me. "Although I have to give myself enough time to set up my place in Germany and stuff." As she said this I was reminded of the fact that she would be leaving. She would be going to Wolfsburg, and I would be living by myself again.

I've always hated living by myself. It stems from my irrational fear of being alone. When I moved to Houston, I was lucky that I had Kristie, who took me under her wing, never looking back. Additionally, Rachel was also there, to help me through the transitional period. I think, now that I look back on it, both Rachel and Kristie have changed me and shaped me, helping me to become the player and person I am now. Their unconditional support and love, when I most needed it, shows just how good of friends they were.

I was excited for Jill to start somewhere new, somewhere fresh. She needed it, but the closer it gets to the start of the season, the more I don't want her to go. The more I fear what will happen to us. To her and to me.

"Yeah, that makes sense. How much time will we need to move you?" I asked her, knowing I would help her move.
"Well, I found a place last night, and so that's sorted. I just need to organise furniture and stuff." I nodded my head, before moving the conversation on, knowing I didn't want to talk about her moving any longer.

Once we had hung up, as she had to go to sleep before her match, I felt the pit in my stomach. I am not sure why I felt it, but it was there. I felt a wave of anxiety over throw me, and I started to breath quickly, and rapidly, unable to control the sharp breaths. I had felt this feeling before, when I was younger, but not since I left Houston. At Arsenal, I was happy, I was never worried, or scared. But now, the feelings are all coming back. I thought about Jill alone in Wolfsburg, while I will be alone in London. I don't want to be what's tying her down. I want her to fly, and soar. Somehow, I feel like a burden, and nothing more. Nothing useful.

I curled up into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth, unable to steady my rapid breaths and throbbing heart. I hated this feeling, I hated what it does to me. The anxieties, which I thought had passed, only returned. I pushed my face into the ground, actively rubbing my face against it, trying to cause carpet rash.

I used to do that a lot when I was younger. I would purposefully rub my arms and face or whatever skin I could, again the carpet. It would leave red gashes which can just be classified as an accidental graze, but it was never on accident. It was another way to release the bottled up pain I had inside me, sucking up the happiness.

Once I felt the rash start to appear on my cheek, my breathing slowly started to calm, but I still felt the anxiety brewing in my stomach, in my heart. I felt like I did when I was 16, not knowing what to do when the pain got all too much. Not knowing how to feel when all I felt was numbness. Not knowing how to release everything that had been buried for so long. I hated what I was about to do, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop.

I went into the bathroom, and found my hidden stash. Although it hadn't been used in nearly two years, I had kept it. I think it's normal to keep it - well that's at least what I tell myself.