it is the shebelieves cup, england verses usa, and i was ready for the competition your team and you would be bringing

even if in this cup you were our opponent, you were still the only player who could pull a smile out of me on the pitch—without even trying to.

but it was the second half, you got knocked down by a nasty tackle, my eyes follow the ball and after a failed attempt of a goal from us, i look back over at you and your not getting up.

my worry intensified by a million and i jog over to you, two of your teammates hunched over looking at you trying to talk- rodman and thompson, but as soon as they see me checking on you they walk away.

my hand is on your side as i squat down “what is happening” i ask you seriously, my fear coming out even though my voice was stern and calm