Football One Shots

Leo Messi: Fate At It's Finest

Sometimes I wonder about love. I wonder why we crave it, and why approximately, around twenty five years into your life you find the one and keep them for the next sixty years of your life. I can't help but see teenaged couples in the street and wonder which relationships will last eternity. Those are the perfect love stories. The ones where you grow up together and fall in love sometime during high school.

Those are the ones we all yearn for, I think, anyways. Sometimes I wonder about those who go on date after date and can't find that perfect guy. I feel the worse for them. Even worse for them than the ones who have spent years alone. When you've been alone you just learn how to cope. But, for certain people, you go on endless dates and you can't find the perfect one.

You have alright guys, but they're not for you. Date after date, you hope to find the one, and you just can't. I pity those people. It's a hard life, I'm sure. It's like watching a tied football game. It's 2-2, your team gets the lead, loses the lead, concedes and then equalizes. It's nearing the end of the match and the teams are going for the win. With your heart in your mouth, it's the 90th minute. There's two minutes of added time.

Your team goes towards the oppositions goal. They're shot stopped, and a counter attack starts for the opposition. It's bad, you can feel it, you start shaking in your seat. There's only two defenders. You watch the opposition dribble the ball. It's like they're taunting you. You widen your eyes as he finds a way past the defenders. You stand up out of your seat, begging for a missed attempt or a save.

The opposition shoots. You watch, it's like slow motion. The goalie dives, his hand just misses the ball. It's in the back of the net. You're heart broken. There's only a measly minute left of the game. It's 3-2, and the whistle blows.

Did we really just lose?

You ask aloud, it's not for anybody to answer. It's the only thing you can think though.

That's what I assume it feels like anyways. I'm not the biggest football fan, and I'm not going on weekly dates either. But I'm single and I can't wait to meet my forever person.

I'm at the point in my life, I can't even log on to any of my social media. All I see are baby pictures and wedding pictures. While the baby pictures are far from happening, the wedding pictures would be nice. Instead I crawl into bed every night and torture myself by logging onto said app.

But, tonight was a little different. I logged on and I got a message. One of my closer friends from college. Her and a few friends are going out shopping and having lunch tomorrow and they want me to go. I sigh, slightly reluctant to go. But, before I could even think of an excuse to get out of it, she messages me back the address with a winky face and the caption,

"You can't get out of this one, amiga."

The next morning when I wake up, I slowly look at the time. Later than expected, but early enough. I felt like putting a tiny added effort into my appearance for once in the past few months. I straighten my insanely curly hair before replacing the rat nest type curls, with beach curls. I even decide to do my makeup better than normal.

I smile at myself. How can somebody this beautiful be single? Then I laugh. Maybe I'm in love with myself and that's why I don't have a boyfriend? My laugh turns to a whimper then. I grab my wallet and head to my car, wondering about my sanity.

The place I was told to meet everybody at is unfamiliar. I'm not from Barcelona, but when people ask where I am from, they generally don't know of my town, it's quaint. The closest city is Barcelona, often times I result to just telling people I'm from here. But, my friends for the most part live here.