I am, after all, only human.
If you cut me, I bleed. If you hit me, I bruise. If you hurt me, I cry.
And I have bled. And I have bruised. And I have cried a river over you.
But today I start a new life.
Healed.
Finally ready to believe in magic once more.
Finally ready to let myself hope.
I have weathered the storm. I have been at the edge. And I have come back re-born.
Today I am conscious of my power within.
Today I have love to give.
Today I will fight for what I want, what I believe in; no matter the price, no matter the struggle.
There is no such place as faraway.
Today I have vision.
Today I am brave.
TODAY I AM BRAVE.
Today I am brave July 24, 2006
Rendez-vous July 15, 2006
It was on a gray, rainy day like this that I had seen him last. It was the end of December and the beginning of winter and I finally had the courage to leave. And now, in the middle of summer, on another gray, rainy day I found myself accepting his invitation to dinner. We hadn’t seen each other since that sad December day and I was overwhelmed with anticipation and nerves. I made him wait half an hour and didn’t apologize for my tardiness. I had given him almost two years of my life, he could give me thirty minutes. He smiled when he saw me, stood up from his chair and kissed my cheek. His moist lips burned my skin. For a moment I left on a quick voyage into the past, a past filled with moist kisses and moist bodies and endless nights. I sat down and our eyes locked for a moment in a pleasantly uncomfortable silence. There was nothing about him I didn’t know, there wasn’t an inch of me he hadn’t explored, and yet we sat there like two distant acquaintances trying to think of something to say. My right hand was lying on the table, and sensing my nerves, he reached out and placed his own hand on top of mine; his touch instantly sent a vibration throughout my entire body. At that moment I couldn’t remember a single miserable thing about our 700 days together, I couldn’t remember why I had left, all I could think about was how no one could ever make me feel the way he did, just by touching my hand. I wasn’t over him, I wasn’t over that touch, those eyes, that voice. For the past few months I was simply fooling myself, drowning myself in work and meaningless frivolities, all in an attempt to eliminate him from my life. It had all been in vain. For now, sitting across from him, I still loved him. Despite the tears, the pain, the ups, the downs, despite my intense effort to forget him, I knew, with that kiss on the cheek, with that touch of my hand, with that look in his eyes, that I still loved him. And there was nothing I could do about it…
Zizou, What did you do? July 9, 2006
I’m at a loss for words. I find it impossible to comprehend that Zidane would take such an unnecessary risk during the last match of his career (at the WORLD CUP final!) He must know that every single camera is on him, that all eyes are on him, that he’s a marked man… There were only ten minutes left when Zidane unexpectedly turned around and butted Materazzi in the chest with his head. Surely the Italian must have insulted Zizou, but Zinedine should have had the maturity and the composure to ignore all such insults and deal with them OFF THE FIELD.
It was nice to see French coach Raymond Domenech applaud Zidane as he left the field and to see his teammates decline to take the captain’s armband from him as he left the stadium. (In the end Barthez was made to wear it as it is a FIFA regulation.)
The image of Zidane, arguably the greatest player of his generation, walking out of that stadium with his head bowed down after being thrown out of the last match of his career, (with the gold world cup in the foreground), is perhaps one of the most disappointing moments in sports.
I’m still in shock. I need a few days to process this. And I really need to find out what Materazzi said to him, I need to know what offended Zidane so much as to do something of this nature, on such an important day, with only minutes left until the end… (of his career, of the match, of the World Cup Final.)
Zizou, I love you, but WHAT DID YOU DO????
*Above: 1. Video of the moment when Zidane butts Materazzi in the chest with his head.
2. Still frame of the moment of contact.
3. Elizondo gives Zizou the unthinkable Red Card in his last professional match.
4. Zinendine leaves Olympiastadion with his head down, we see the world cup in the foreground.
5. Zizou’s head bowed in frustration, anger, and sadness.
You Invade Me July 5, 2006
Sometimes I think I should distance myself from you. I use the word ‘think’ and not ‘feel’. For I don’t feel I should. I feel I should love you forever, surrender to you…but sometimes I think I should stop. I should separate. I should dettach… from you, oh intoxicating you, running through my veins, making your presence known throughout every inch of my body. You’re everywhere and you’re nowhere. Like the air. Like the transparent air that I need to live but that I can neither see nor touch. I breathe you in and you invade me. Like a soldier, like a rebel, like the savage that you are. And I let you conquer me, slowly, reluctantly, trying my hardest to fight you off, but deciding, in the end, that it is futile; so I give in, give in to you, give in to the fantasty, the reality, the sweet agony of the unknown, the butterflies in my stomach, the pounding in my heart, the smile on my face… I give in to you, for you, because of you… for I need air to breathe.
Zizou Bienvenue!! July 1, 2006
Zizou, you’re back!!! Did you read my words? Were you upset that I reproached your poor play? Monsieur Zinedine Zidane you were without a doubt the MVP of the game today against Brazil and you showed us why you are the king. You were unstoppable (and quite irresistable) mon cher.
(PS. Loved to see Brazil lose with grace and style and dignity; unlike the Argentines who embarrassed themselves and their country with their poor attitude and terrible sportsmanship.)
