I know, a soccer ball isn't usually meant to sit on someone's desk as decoration. But I don't exactly have the physical ability to do much with it. And besides, I didn't get it to play with it, anyway. I got it to have a signed memento from the team of rowdy boys who became my family without me even asking for it.
Occasionally, though, I will pick it up and just bounce it.
Bounce.
We're still here, and we're not going anywhere.
Bounce.
God, I just want to thank you for our friendship and the bond that we share.
Bounce.
We've invested in you because you've invested in us.
Bounce.
You spending time with us made us better people.
Bounce.
We knew you were our sister pretty early on. We just had to let you in on the secret.
Down and back up again, every time I hear the voice of another one of my brothers. I see their faces. I relive a memory of one of them letting me know how they really felt about me, telling me that I didn't have to be scared of trusting them, like they knew that in my gut none of this made sense to me without me saying a word.
Bounce.
Angelita.
Bounce.
Mals.
Bounce.
Sister.
I hear their various nicknames for me, each one of them calling to me, usually with a big grin on their face, and I can't help but feel this burning ache. How can you know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be but also feel like your heart is being split in two? I left a piece of my heart behind with those boys, and I'm not even the tiniest microscopic bit sorry about it, but I can't pretend that this feeling isn't absolutely awful.
Seeing the ones that I was able to when I was there a few weeks ago was the most wonderful thing, but it only made leaving that much more saddening because it made the memory raw and stinging of who exactly I was leaving behind.
Bounce.
When are you coming back?
Bounce.
I'm gonna miss you so much.
Bounce.
Please come back next year. I want you to see us play again.
One of them asked me to come back for his graduation, and the fact that I couldn't promise him I'd be there was...just awful.
But you know what? With every bounce, I remember all the smiles, the laughter, the prayers, the food, the jokes. The way I screamed for a beautiful goal. The hugs I gave when I could see in their eyes just how upset they were over a loss. The way they thanked me just for showing up, when I felt like I was winning because I got to see them play and hang out with them. How special I felt when they called me their most dedicated fan.
And all that good stuff? It completely outweighs the bad feelings that come with missing the people I love. I wouldn't trade any of those moments for the world. Because those moments, they bonded us together. Through those moments, those boys let me be a part of the family that they could have so easily kept exclusively them. Those moments led to me watching almost every game this past season, even though I'm 600 miles away. Because that's what family does. They support each other even when it requires sacrifice. They show up en masse to be bodyguards even when it ends up being unnecessary. They're there to give hugs and prayers and encouragement and whatever is needed whenever it's needed. And family like that, it doesn't change even when a sister moves away.
This $6 soccer ball on my desk, it's a reminder that we're in it for good.
Bounce.
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