I’ve Been To More Funerals Than Weddings.

Sobbed at Rachel Daly watching the girls’ game last night. I fear I’ll never get over her retirement, I miss her 😭

football has been such a big part of my life, for as long as I can remember.

so many people around me don’t understand the love I have for the sport, but they’ll never truly understand how vital it has been to me. my team, my club, to me its home.

I’ve been going to Stamford bridge since I was a kid, I know the stadium as well as I know my childhood home. over the years, kingsmeadow has become home too.

the sport, this club, it gives me something to believe in. I mean, isn’t that what most people want anyways? something they can wholeheartedly believe in. sport, for so many people, give them that belief.

there’s something safe and easy about standing in a crowd with thousands of fans just like you, all in that one moment, cheering on your team. it’s a weird feeling, one I can’t describe but try to chase. the pure joy, the comfort, the delight and rush as you watch goals be conceded or scored, the rush you get of excitement, or the dread that follows a hard loss. the unwavering determination that you will come back from this.

I leave a part of me everywhere I go. I think most people do, unconsciously. A part of themselves gets left behind and proves to people for decades to come, that they lived. they were there once just like them. existing in the same spaces as them, hundreds of years apart.

I leave a part of me in South Africa every time I part. A country that means so much to me, that my mother grew up in and left behind for a better life. A country I rarely get the chance to go back to, and so cherish every moment with my loved ones when I do. I cry every time I leave, it’s like a part of me is ripped away and left in the country for me to pick back up when I return. every return back is bittersweet. I hold a lot of anger towards my dad for keeping me and my siblings away for so long. I was a child, I deserved to know and see that part of myself too.

I left a part of me in Ecuador a year ago. A country that grew to provide me an escape from the turbulence in my life that surrounded me at the time. It gave me a place to discover myself, to see the world and meet new people, to get away from it all and think. It gave me time to heal most of all. It was a sanctuary. one I didn’t know I need at that point in my life. one I miss every day.

I’ve been to countless countries in my lifetime, every place gives me something I never knew I needed till I got there. every place provides me with a new experience and outlook on life. and while I doubt I’m alone in this feeling, I feel as if words will never be able to convey how much it means to me.

I’m lucky enough to have travelled far, seen different cultures and met people from different walks of life. they will stick with me forever.

and you’re telling me THEYRE NOT ENDGAME?!?

this job takes. a lot. but you know what it gives? it gives me you

I fear I might not recover from that episode. “I’m your first but I won’t be your last”?!?!?

BUCKTOMMY BONES?!! (We fucking cheered)

MADNEY PREGNANT

THE LAST SCENE WITH BUCK AND EDDIE?!?

we’re so fucking back baby

no matter where I go, I never truly belong. it may not seem like it at first, but it becomes apparent sooner or later

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am an observer, but not by choice.’

[text id: my fist has always been clenched around the handle of an invisible suitcase. / i am always ready to leave. / there is not a single room in this world where i belong.]

LEWIS IS RED, GIRMA IS BLUE, FRED VASSEUR AND SONIA BOMPASTOR I FUCKING LOVE YOU ❤️💙

sometimes I scare myself with the anger that lies within me. It sits dormant, waiting for the time to rise and make itself known. and when it does, it consumes me and comes out in angry heaving sobs as I gasp to scream what I’ve kept hidden underneath the surface for so long. I can’t remember the last time I was angry and shouted without crying. without the ensuing meltdown that typically follows. maybe it is never truly anger I feel, not wholly anyways. It’s tainted by other emotions, other feelings.

maybe this makes me bitter, at least I think it does to some degree. It scares me how angry I can be sometimes, how much rage I have within me. angry at the people around me, at the world, at the circumstances I am presented with, as I cling to the mere notion it has to be some sort of higher power surely testing me. for what I’m not sure, maybe I’ll never know. maybe I don’t want to.

THE SCREAM I JUST LET OUT AT NONI SCORING. 4/6 OF HIS GOALS THIS SEASON AGAINST WOLVES, THATS MY FUCKING LEGEND

she makes me laugh when I feel as if I’ll never see the sun again