Simply, hope.

"How is it?"
"Not bad, it's getting better at least."
"It just broke your heart, didn't it?"
"Yeah," I replied, tears swelling up in my eyes.
"It's sad : things like this always happen to those with the biggest heart."

The hit. The discomfort. The fall.
Where's the pain?
The worry. The help. The applause.
Why must they cheer?
The ice. The denial. The tears.
You can't hide them forever.

I learned that, realistically, one cannot be indestructible. Eventually, recklessness will do you in. I don't have incredible skills to make me shine out there, all I have is heart. It's all I have to give.
But, hearts can be broken. By a boy, by a friend, by family, by a complete stranger, in some cases, by YOURSELF. I wasn't careful enough.
"Let's look at this as a blessing in disguise." Form shooting. Ball handling. This is what I need to improve if I even want a chance at succeeding at a higher level.

A blessing in disguise... Blessing in disguise... In disguise... A blessing.

The doctors said six weeks at the least. I gave myself two. The physio gave me hope.

Time. Here's to the power of prayer.

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