I was in the perfect relationship. Every weekend, we would meet. There was palpable passion. Irresistible. The anticipation to meet would start days, sometimes months, before the date. And man, your moves. Those moves kept me loyal. I couldn't see anything but you. I was smitten. Gone. Swept off my feet. Sometimes, we would do something radical -- meet up between midweek and 4 AM -- who cared about school, college or office the next day? The chemistry between us was too much. I couldn't stop myself from staying up all those nights, dreaming of what would happen next. There were arguments and fights as well. Deep discussions which sometimes made me feel like a loser as well - but heck, there was guaranteed entertainment. Life with you would never be boring. Hey, I think it was love. Until your new boss came along and ruined everything. The singing and dancing -- so many times with like-minded friends -- was replaced by me, sitting in front of the television alone, waiting for the real you. The openness of what we felt for each other on Twitter and Facebook was replaced by a ping on my phone -- a single alert from you about your status. It was plain. Too business-like. I would still wait for that text message -- but then, as winter became summer, I would not even bother to read that message. I flicked off the notification.
Things were not the same between us any more. Your demeanour seemed to change as well -- you became boring. I would stay up watching you at night on the rare occasion I chose to sacrifice sleep, and still, nothing stirred inside me. I tried to drink through it -- beer, the nectar that added to exhilaration while I was with you, was now a medicine to help me get through the depression. Couldn't you see how ignored I felt?
Your constant chatter about who you were going to hire next at work was interesting at first, before it sounded like empty promises most times. As those deals fell through, you took out your frustration on me. And this boss of yours -- he suppressed your affinity for risk and replaced it with a disconcertingly safe approach. I remember you telling me how the only fun thing that happened in office is him falling over comically in front of a rival colleague. The only positive part of your work-life now seemed to be the promotion of the juniors in office.
These things dragged me down with you and somehow, amid all this adjustment, the magic was lost. And I admit that I suddenly found myself wanting to be with others. That's despicable.
It was just another relationship - the mundane things that happened to others were happening to us now.
I realised this was not why I chose to be with you. I fell for you because you inspired me, you fuelled the fire inside me, you made me cry like a baby and laugh like a mad man all in the space of a couple of hours. My racing heartbeats in your presence have been replaced by a dull thumping inside my chest. It was life, but it was lifeless as well. Suddenly, there's no adrenaline to spare. Just ice cold nerves.
I will still try. Because I am a man of my word. Loyalty comes before everything. Maybe you are going through a bad phase and I'll do as much as I can to stick with you. Help you through this crisis -- but it can't be one-sided. You have to show me that I mean something to you as well.
Dear Manchester United, I love you. But I don't think it's working out.