I was the golden boy.
America's Quarterback.
I was everything to everyone. Always available. Solid.
I can remember how something felt wrong that day.
And I haven't been able to get that feeling to go away.
Not when I buried my child.
Not when my fiancé looked at me like I'd been the reason for it all.
Not when I look in the mirror and scream at the top of my lungs.
Football kept me sane.
But I've lost everything.
And then I got a phone call.
She was in an accident.
She remembered nothing.
A gentleman wouldn't fight for her, wouldn't remind her of the pain.
So, I let her go.
I let her live her happily ever after and I took all the darkness,
all the pain, all the anger.
Only, the universe had a sick sense of humor.
She bumped into me.
She pursued me.
The beautiful woman I used to call mine.
She said she wanted to make me smile.
She didn't know she's the reason I stopped.
