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It's been a few years, since you've been gone.
Visiting wasn't enjoyable anymore, it hurt and it was devastating. Frenkie didn't know exactly why he kept coming back. Matthijs always seemed so calm and composed, but now he always cried out of loneliness. Frenkie always caved into the cries and returned to visit.
There's been a few tears, but that was years and years ago.
Why wouldn't Matthijs stop calling? It had been three years, this should've been something they grew out of the second year Frenkie moved to Barcelona. He was living his dream, shouldn't Matthijs be happy for him? Long distance relationships were hard but it got better. Frenkie's eyes were dried but Matthijs was calling and calling of a plea of loneliness.
They were supposed to move to Barcelona together. It was their dream.
Yeah, I grew up to be exactly what you wanted.
Yeah, I've been living out the dream that you dreamt up.
Frenkie was on top of the world. From wonder-kid on the market at Ajax, humiliating Real Madrid in the Champions League, to doing that more often in the league. Stunning and shushing the tabloids with miraculous footwork and speed to match. Flying through the bench to the first team. Being in Barcelona wasn't easy but it was worth it. If only Matthijs was here to experience it.
But Matthijs never moved from Ajax, and he never would.
Setting down the carnations he picked up on the way to visit, Frenkie placed them gently on the tombstone to show respect. He bit his lip to try and not cry, this happened years ago. He was no longer the high sought out 21 year old of Europe. He was matured and still consistently delivering. But being older didn't mean the wounds didn't sting.
"Hey, Matta. It's been awhile hasn't it?" Frenkie began his speech, tears coming back as his eyes were painfully shut tight combined with the lump in his throat forming. All these visits and it never got easier, the loss was never easier.
Disrespectful or not, the Dutch midfielder sank down and lie down on his stomach, arms supporting his head and eyes mournfully reading the sight in front of him.
Matthijs de Ligt
August 12, 1999 - May 1, 2019
Forever Loved, Never Forgotten
Rest In Peace, May God Grace Your Soul
Matthijs was too young to be gone. He was a teenager and would now always be a teenager who never got the chance to grow up, to experience life. A life thrown away by Matthijs himself, at the detestation of the world, of his family, of his team, of his boyfriend...
It's been a few years with more to come.
It's been a few years since I've felt sure of what I want.
Why oh why did Matthijs do this?
Maybe everybody just ignored the signs.
And that alone, made Frenkie burst into fresh sobs, old wounds opening because of lost young love. Love that was new and exciting, of possibility. Love that was killed too soon. The love that made his heart sing with joy and that took away his pain.
He wanted Matthijs to go to Barcelona with him, to stay together and live their dream discussed over many sleepless nights. Tired eyes and sloppy kisses that had smiles behind them which was pure young love at its finest with all the excitement and new joys.
Matthijs was his, and they were going to take over the world together.
It wasn’t easy being one half of a now broken heart.
And I woke up today and found that you were waiting here for me, and I thought...
Oh friend, it’s bittersweet.
Oh, how could you do this to me?
How could you do this to me?
“Hey love, it’s me. Frenkie.”
The wind whispered back in a chilling breeze of uncertainty. Questions never answered. Was Matthijs calling? Or was Frenkie just going mad?
“I’m doing okay at Barcelona, it changes when your teammates leave but we’re holding up. Did you know I’m still considered a youth talent in the tabloids? It amazes me. Do you know what I realized when I just said that, Matta?"
Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Matthijs was here. He was listening. Just not here- not now.
“You would have been too.”
Silence.