shouldering the pain

You probably have no idea how much it kills me, but it does.

I know why it's this frustrating. I know a lot more about how you think than maybe you think I do. I certainly thought one step ahead of S. He didn't understand your frustration as much as I did, until I told him why you were this bothered.

I know how much you want to play. But I also know how much you're hurting. And I certainly don't think you should play. But I know why you want to play. And I guess, if I were you, I'd do exactly the same too.

Scenario: LSE vs Baths 2nds, semifinals. If we win, we're through to the finals; if we lose, that's the end of the season. But it's not just the end of the season: it's the end of your tennis life with LSE. And there's no guarantee of getting to the finals at all. This could potentially be your very last game for LSE. And it would be a real shame if you didn't get to play that. Because you're captain, because you're the best, because you should.

It wasn't meant to be like this. You were meant to get better and everything would be fine. You boys would've won the league, you boys would've won it all. But things never go according to plan.

It might seem so petty to other people, but it isn't to me, and it isn't to you. I know how frustrated you are. I could sense it just in the way you stared, the way you didn't speak.

I think I know you better than we both think I do.

If I could do anything--anything--to help the situation, I would. At one point when talking to S, I almost felt like crying. I hate it when you're hurting, when you're this upset. But I'm not made of magic. I can't heal with a touch. There's nothing I can do, except sit on the side, patiently let you think, let you ponder, let you silently simmer with frustration and helplessness.

It's going to keep you up tonight. Your shoulder's going to be in tatters tomorrow.

But go get them, tiger. I'm rooting for you.

xx