Dear Football,
It has been nearly a month now since you left me. It felt like we were together for as long as I can remember, but suddenly you are no longer a part of my life. I write this letter to football to remind myself of all the fun times we had when we were united.
I think about you often. I remember waking up at god-awful-times in the morning just to see you. Now when I wake from my slumber on weekends I arise to an empty void without your presence. Our Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon Champions League rendezvous is a thing of the past.
Sometimes I get on FIFA 20 and watch simulated matches to pretend you didn’t leave me. I miss you so much.
Alas, I don’t blame you for leaving, the timing wasn’t right between us. For you had to leave for the safety of others. I understand why you had to leave me toiling in isolation, but I long for the day I can see you once again.
Without you in my life I have gone on to accomplish great things. I now spend my weekends picking fights over toilet paper at the nearest Walmart. It’s the closest thing to competition I can find these days.
The struggle for poop wipers will never adequately replace you. It's the little things that remind me of you the most. The stench of sweat and leaving grass stains on me is something you do best.
I hope you are doing well and haven’t moved on to someone else, for I know there is still something between the two of us.
Until I see you again football.
I love you.