WHY I HATE FOOTBALL

Have you ever dated a bisexual?

Back in my ol’ college days I systematically hunted down and seduced mass of muscle on our college football team. He was half-back with a tight end. We hit it off gang busters both in and out of the bed, the only real issue we had was he’s attraction to the other sex.

The passion between us was incredibly strong, a bond that no man could rip apart. Although after getting pretty serious no man did. Was I the type to sit crying in my living room wearing his football jersey rocking back and forth as I listened to Melissa Etheridge? Absolutely.

The next time we met was in Valhalla.

The apartment building named Valhalla. I had moved in a year earlier when I noticed that I had new neighbors. When I knocked on the door I was greeted by Michelle who then introduced me to my Odin, the Ex-football player with Similar Features.

Michelle explained how they finally decided to move in together before they got married, showing me her massive engagement ring. I welcomed them into the apartment building as the football player gave me nervous looks behind Michelle.

I spent the next year trying to avoid the happy couple like they had the plague. This was hard because Michelle was so incredibly nice. Coming over to have nice chats about, calm mundane neighbor things. I never once had any sort of “conversation” with the footballer; I figured being friends with his fiancé was enough fun. I ended up enjoying Michelle quite a bit. We hugged and promised to keep in touch when they moved out.

She kept in touch just once more. She had a cousin call me to give me the date for the service. Would I go? In the end I only felt it the right thing to do. I grabbed the best-friend and all the strength I could muster and walked into the church.

The mood was surprisingly light, the front on the church covered in photos of him and his personal belongings, the hardest to see was the football jersey draped next to a slew of football trophies. When Michelle spoke, she thanked everyone for their support and love of him and their little family. I quickly found it odd the Michelle or anyone else that spoke never mentioned how the footballer died. They glossed over how he contracted HIV from someone during a probable tryst away from Michelle. No one mentioned how he concealed his status for years, not getting any lifesaving treatment for fear of having to admit to what and who he was.

At the end of the service Michelle thanked me for coming as you would to an ex-neighbor. She smiled gave me hand shake and looked for the next person in the receiving line.

To this day I hate football.



Melissa Etheridge - Similar Features