Damn It, Isco II: Honest Words…

No, I’m not done.

This is only the start of my very original “Damn It, Isco” series.

I suppose I won’t stop til I feel somewhat better. It may take a few days, weeks, or never. I don’t really know.

I don’t really know.

I think I may have taken it too far this time. I had always take my futbol players “obsessions” mostly as a joke, or whatever you would call it-something that I find amusing. People around me have heard about them too many times, and knowing me as a serious, determined being, they probably believe most of the things that I’d say. Sometimes I have to explain myself that hey, that was a joke, or hey, I was just being sarcastic. Most of the time I don’t explain anything. I’m not good at explaining myself – not to mention that I hate doing so.

But this time it is slightly different. I had never really “picture” that someone and thought what he’d look like. I guess this is where Isco comes in. I guess this is why I kind of overreact to this whole thing.

It’s like a punch in the stomach-finding out so soon after being so sure, with the media and his words in a recent interview confirming that he was completely single. I just didn’t see it coming so soon, after all.

At least it makes me happy to know that his girlfriend is ugly. Good-looking guys always choose some hideous girls. It’s comforting to know that I don’t have to work hard on my looks. I may just have to lose some pounds to be her size. And although some skinny people are insanely pretty, I actually think skinny would look ugly on me. I feel pretty comfortable being a size 12 or 14. I can’t imagine myself as a skinny girl. Regardless, I just need to lose some weight, I’ll be even uglier.

I thought it was ironic that she looks kind of Asian, too, an ugly one. Somehow that makes me…happy. And her being so tan with man shoulders, I am happy. Very happy. I don’t think happy is the right word here; I don’t really know.

Sometimes I feel like laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. It’s hilarious. But some stupid, twisted, and incomprehensible part of me feels something sting. Like I’m falling off the cliff into the complete darkness. And the light seems to move further away and becomes dimmer and dimmer. I would face that light, helpless, growing more panic as I fall deeper and deeper. I am scared of when my back would hit the rocky ground, but it just doesn’t. I just keep falling, falling interminably. It’s such a horrid, empty feeling. Like someone reached into your chest and took a part of your heart out; but your heart is still there, beating, broken…empty.

This feeling probably doesn’t have to do much with some soccer player who lives a thousand miles away. I’m sure it’s just some accumulations of under-lying issues. I supposed I can search for them, identify them, and solve them one by one. But I’m not brave enough at this point to acknowledge them; and doing so is getting way too personal-I don’t want to do any of that stuff here. Although it would be good to reach into my soul, I’m afraid that doing so might break the fragile thing. I guess it’s better to leave it alone…at the moment. #Hopefully some day I will grow stronger-older and wiser-and brave enough to deal with it all…Someday#.

I’ll end this here. I need to focus on my studies. I’m still young; the right time for the right thing will come – and I intend to keep believing in this optimistic but potentially false and misleading statement, at least for a while.


P.S. I’ll be staying off Twitter for a while. I feel silly after tweeting and tagging him so much. Not to mention that he hasn’t tweeted for weeks since the Euro U-21 final. He’s probably busy walking around Madrid with his girlfriend, as the pictures have surfaced all over the Internet. Probably too busy to get on Twitter, drilling. Good for him, good for him. Happy for him, always a futbol fan of his, always will be.


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