Monday, July 12, 2010

Revenge is a dish best served cold. With sangria.

Five weeks, three days and a few hours ago, my heart was broken by the man who I thought was the Love of my Life (note the capital Ls). It was really broken – it was more like crushed into a million small pieces. But that’s beside the point. I’m the first to say we had our differences - he liked the Netherlands national soccer team and I’ve been a Spanish fan for years.

Anticipation for the World Cup has started months ago, but after picking up the pieces of my aforementioned destroyed heart, I decided that the World Cup, and more specifically the Spanish national team would be my rebound relationship.

I refocused my life around the matches, cheering for a few other teams but with special love and affection for my Spanish boys (who have had a history of great players who just can’t perform at the global tournaments). I knew I could be setting myself up for another heartbreak. But I cheered on regardless.

As the Round of 16 started, I knew We (Spain and me, of course) could make it to the next round. And we did. When we beat Germany, I was not only stunned by the sweet feeling of victory, trust, and giddiness that started churning in my chest again, but also by the fact that I thought my team really deserved it.

It was surreal that the Netherlands played Spain for the final match. It wasn’t just about world domination on the field. It was my rebound-boyfriend was going head-to-head with my ex. In front of the whole world.

So, I did what any dedicated girl would do in a rebound relationship – I got a fabulous red and gold outfit, rallied my favorite group of people, and found myself waiting in front of the Spanish bar four hours before kick off. I found myself on the edge of my seat watching one of the dirtiest matches of the world. Spain was playing against a bunch of big, Orange bullies. But as the ball finally made its way to the Dutch net during overtime, my heart burst with joy. They did it. We did it. My team had won.

Before my breakup, I would have been ecstatic. But yesterday it put me over the edge.

Like most rebound relationships, it’s been about gaining back a little bit of pride and self-worth. It’s been about getting out from under the covers of my bed and hoping for something big and special. But I never could have asked for more. Not only did my rebound boyfriend beat my ex’s team without playing outright nasty. But they won the ENTIRE World Cup. They took home all of it. It was as if my rebound boyfriend proposed in front of the whole world. And kicked my ex down while doing it.

4 comments:

Unknown said...

You Duckin' Go! Le Tigre!

Anonymous said...

Lovely entry, Mariposa. Glad to hear the victory of our country-away-from-country did your heart such good. P.S. I'm totally going to use your title!

Shoegal18 said...

"It's not optimal, but..." then again, sometimes it is. I heart you!

Shoegal18 said...

Your fans wait with baited breath... How's the new city!?