We spent the next six months in a perfect reality. We bought a house in St Albans and moved in together. It was me, her, Sol and Måne. Our small family was perfect. Well, our small family is perfect. Every night well fell asleep together.
We told our friends we were dating as soon as she asked me to be her girlfriend. It was a cold and dark December night. The two of us were ice-skating in London and when we took a hot chocolate break, she asked me the question. I answered with an of course. We spent the rest of the night in bed, making each other feel great.
I met her family when she turned 26 and she met mine when they were visiting for the FA Women's League Cup final. We had taken it slow, and we had taken it fast. It was a great time, and I was so in love with her.
Our reality was perfect. That was until today.
It was the final ten minutes of our Champions League game against Bayern München. We were playing at the Emirates and all I could feel was pride. I was so proud that we were here, in the quarterfinal of the Champions League and playing at an almost sold-out arena. The score was 2-0 in our favor.
I was playing in the mid-field, with Leah on the back behind me. Georgia Stanway was running towards me, I cleared the ball when I heard a pop. Before I even landed on the ground, I knew I had done it. I had done my ACL. This was the end of the season for me, it was the end of my world-cup dreams.
When I landed, I screamed out in pain, it was the worst pain I had felt in my life. I clutched my knee and repeated the same words while sobbing. "I have done my knee." I cried out. Leah was by my side in seconds. She held my hand and rubbed circles on it while trying to calm me down. The medics came after her. They did their initial assessment and told me exactly what I had feared. "We think you have torn your ACL. We'll get you off, then you will need to go in. Someone else will examine you at the hospital and then you will get an MRI. Do you think you can walk off or do we need to get a stretcher?" the medics asked me. "I'll walk." I told them. Leah helped me up and held me while we slowly walked off. She couldn't follow me all the way, but Pevlova helped me the rest of the way.
I could see the worry in both Beth and Viv. I just nodded. No words could tell them what had happened and they both knew how I was feeling.
The first two weeks passed in a blur. I spent my days and nights crying and contemplating what had happened. But the day after tomorrow we had another game. It was against Manchester United, and I would be there. It would be the first game I watched since my injury. Luckily, I had Beth and Viv with me. They had helped a lot. The first few days all I did was cry in Leah's arms. She listened to everything I had to say and filled my head with encouragement. After a week I started talking to Beth and Viv. They explained the surgery, the recovery process and understood exactly what I was feeling. They were both so helpful. Without them I would probably not be feeling okay at all.
During these two weeks I had more panic attacks than I could count. What if I would never return? What if I wasn't as good as before? What if Leah left me? During all my panic attacks someone was there for me to reassure that nothing of this would happen. Especially Leah. She was particularly harsh on the last one. She always told me that she loved me, no matter if I was on the pitch or not.
I called my family as soon as I got the news. Leah held me tight as I was crying to them. My mom was on the first flight here, she stayed for a week. That first week I didn't leave the house. I laid in bed and only went up to go to the toilet. I lost a lot of weight that week. The second week I went out in the garden. I sat on a chair with Leah next to me, we shared a blanket as I stared into the distance. I did a lot that, staring into the distance I mean. I zoned out to escape the pain in my mind.
I spent the next two days doing nothing. I mostly sat on that chair outside. A minor win was that I cooked lunch for me and Leah when she was at training. She got home and saw me at the table, with two plates in front of me and smiled bigger than she had done since my injury. It was hard on her too. I know it would be hard for me if she was the injured one. I would be feeling so guilty for playing, and I knew she did. She had avoided the topic of football entirely, I was grateful for that, but I knew how much it pained her not being able to talk about that. We spent that lunch talking about football. After I made my way back to the chair. For the first time since I got injured I brought my phone.
I had so many messages wishing me a speedy recovery. The one that mattered the most to me where the one from Elisa. She said that she wished me a fast recovery and that if I ever needed to complain I was welcome to talk to her. Elisa also talked about that if I needed a distraction she could talk about Jorge and everything that was happening in Spain. I responded with a heart and continued scrolling through. There were a few from Alexia, she talked about how shit it was, and that she was available at any time of day if I needed to talk. Both her and Elisa had been through the same. Alexia got her injury right before the Euros and Elisa got hers a while back. Three years had passed since her injury. I know that was one of the worst times in her life.
Leah joined me after her shower. We sat there, hand in hand and talked. I knew she had wanted this for so long. For me to open up about what I was feeling. She had never pressured me to talk when I didn't want to, and I was so happy for that. I was ready to put words to my feelings and she was there to listen.
The night ended with both of us on the couch, watching some episode of Friends. We fell asleep there and both woke up to the blaring sound of Leah's alarm. It was an away game, and I would be on the bus for the first time since my injury. Leah had convinced me to go there, and I did it for her. For my girlfriend.
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