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7.12.11

So… Super Bowl Love Blues… (2009-2010 Season)

Every year, me, my ex and our son used to go to annual family Super Bowl Party. For anyone who lives under a rock, the Super Bowl is the Season finale of the NFL. (The National Football League) With that said, since he and I no longer together, I wanted to do something different. So when my friend invited me to a Super Bowl party in a penthouse, I said yes. No family camaraderie, just me. Now a small fish in a big pond.
So here I am. In a beautiful penthouse with beautiful people. Grownups. I hand over my bottle of rum, which is my admission fee and I claim my seat. I was early enough to get a chair in front of the TV. The best seat in the house.
I grab a beer and plant myself. The game began and still no sight of my friend. Wearing my Indianapolis Colts shirt, so everyone knows what team I’m going for. There’s a lot of fence people, people that don’t take a position on a team and talk the most crap if your team loses. So let the shyt talking begin. And I gave it back! 

Towards the end of the party, it was evident that my team lost. My Colts were defeated. And it was ugly. I had talked so much crap through that game and now I realized how alone I was. I didn’t know these people. Then my phone rang. It was my ex. He wanted to know why I didn’t come to the annual party. After all, it was an almost 10-year tradition. And I broke it.

I made an excuse that I was on my way and fell asleep on the train. Defeated, I was back on my way home. When I hung up the phone after lying to him, it hit me. Hard. I began to cry. Some dumb-ass loser came outside and told people in the party that I was crying because my team lost and I was drunk. WHOA! Wait a minute!

I was fun, even the life of the party at times, but now I was down. Feeling really low. The buzz was so big about me and my state of mind, the hostess of the party came outside to see how I was.
By the time she came out, I was now hysterical. I was upset with myself, upset with why I was put into the position of trying to move on and I definitely was tired of people asking me if I was OK.

I cried because I just realized how hard I was trying to move on. And I couldn’t. At that moment, I wanted my family back and wished I were there with them. But we and I were over. And the reality of the finality of it all, hit me like a ton of bricks.