Read the below with careful reference to HERE and well as HERE (this was the blog post I wrote when we beat Chelsea last year)
I think I should talk about the Champions League finals?
I was on holidays so this did a good job at distracting me from thinking too much about the match. If I was home, I think I could have been depressed for one whole week I might need one whole week with a naked Christian Bale to cheer me up.
Obviously losing is never easy, especially when winning at one point seemed so damn near.
And when I am THIS passionate about the game and the club, the pain of not winning is so hard to describe. It was not the end of the world. But it was not time for singing nightingales too.
It was just....bland.
Stiff. Numb.
Like you were given a big tight slap by that new girlfriend of your ex-boyfriend, but only imaginary. You feel the pain. It did not feel real only because it was not real at the first place. The pain is harder to comprehend than a knife stabbed through the pumping heart.
Again. Quoting myself from HERE.
"..and when I have to face inevitable losses that come in my life, I will try to take it with all my blessed might."
Really, the game is to be put behind.
But only after being able to accept that we were the second best that night in Rome.
Next year, we will can always try to do it again.
Accept, improve, and then prove.
The yearning is a lot stronger now.
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