Chapter Text
I breathe the cold Manchester air into my lungs as I do some stretches for my calves. I’m not used to such cold weather. I’ve lived in Lisbon, Portugal, for my whole life before my transfer from Benfica to join Manchester United. It’s an adjustment for me, to say the least. I’ll adjust, though, I’ll have to, because for the next 5 years of my life, I’ve committed my football future to England’s most famous football club. It’ll be a dream to play for United; it’s surreal to come to training at Carrington, Manchester United’s training ground, for my first day at the club. So a bit of cold weather, adjustment time, and not being able to feel my fingers is a price I'm more than willing to pay.
I’m a bit nervous today, though, to be honest. United is a dream; being here is a dream, but moving countries and teams is scary. I have a whole squad of new teammates and new people to greet and break the ice with, and I’ve never been the most confident person. I have social anxiety, and I’m a bit of a loner in my social life. Even back at Benfica, where I felt comfortable with my surroundings, I never really spoke with my teammates or my coaches. I just kept my head down and did my talking on the pitch. I always feel most comfortable with my fiancé, JC, who’s come with me to live in Manchester. He’s my best friend and my love. Being with him is just easy. I feel really lucky to have him. He’s warm, he's kindhearted, and he loves talking about football or just things in general with me. Honestly, I already miss him, and it’s only been an hour since he dropped me off for my first training session with my new teammates. I can’t wait to get home and then help him unpack our belongings for our new home.
He’s a writer, so moving countries wasn’t a massive issue for him, but I do feel guilty. He has friends back in Lisbon, and he’s left them and his life behind for me. This is my dream, but it isn’t JC's. He didn’t sign up for this. I guess that makes my love for him even stronger; he’s given up his life to come with me to be with me. I can’t wait to be married to him. He’s my home, whatever country I’m in. JC is my home now. I have grandparents back in Portugal who raised me after my parents died, but I don’t see them as home anymore. I see JC as that now, and that is so big for me. I love JC and hope to make a family with him someday. But for now, I just need us to settle down in Manchester and get playing football for my new team in my position as left back.
“Hey Silva!”
The voice of my new captain, Beatrice Xhang, calling over to me on the training pitch shakes me from my thoughts, and I move my gaze to the source of her voice. Beatrice is waving me over to her. I better make my introductions; I haven’t really interacted with anyone yet. So I jog over to Beatrice, who wears the same outfit the whole team does: full United training kit training pants, a training hoodie, and some gloves to protect her hands from the cold. It comforts me to see that even a native of this country like Beatrice feels the cold today.
"Hi, nice to meet you.” I reach Beatrice's position on the pitch and offer my hand for her to shake in greeting.
“Likewise Ava.” Beatrice smiles warmly and shakes my gloved hand. It can always be intimidating to meet a captain, but Beatrice seems nice enough on first impression.
I take back my hand, pull down my fleecy hat to cover my ears, and try to break the ice. “It’s freezing, isn’t it? I'm not used to this sort of cold. Back home, it was never frosty like this.”
Beatrice hums and starts stretching as I do the same. “It'll be an adjustment for you, I’m sure. There’s no sugarcoating it. England is cold, but it’s kind of your fault for signing for us in January.”
Hearing a teasing glint in the captain's words, I smile nervously. “I don’t think signing in August would’ve changed how much of a culture shock this weather would be.”
“That’s fair; you’ll get through it, I’m sure, though.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be ready to play in this frozen tundra for every match day,” I chuckle.
Beatrice pinches her freezing nose, then tugs on her fleecy hat to cover her ears from the cold, just like I did. "Well, that’s good to know; we’re going to need you for the second half of the season.” Beatrice looks over to Suzanne, manager of the team, briefly and goes on, "Anyway, I just wanted to welcome you to the team, and if you need anything, let me know, and I’ll try to help even if it’s outside the club.”
I tilt my head and ask, “What do you mean?”
“You know, like, advice on the best restaurants to eat at or help with acclimatising to Manchester in general. If you need anything—anything at all—I'm here.”
I feel touched by my new captain's care and reply, "Oh, okay, that’s really nice of you. Thank you. I have my fiancé to help me, though I think I’ll be okay.”
Beatrice and I start to stretch our thighs, and Beatrice places her palm on my shoulder. "Well, if you do need anything—anything at all—I'm here to help, alright?”
I smile shyly at my sunkissed, freckled captain and nod, "Thanks; I appreciate that. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, and um.” Beatrice moves closer to whisper, “Don’t feel too shy with this lot; they’re harmless.”
I nod and continue to stretch. Beatrice is nice, and she’s being very welcoming. I feel a tiny bit less anxious now about adjusting to my new teammates. I can see myself playing hard for my captain on the pitch, and I hope the rest of the team is as welcoming to me.
—
I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be living my best life. I should be happy with where I am, who I am, the money I make, and the friends I have. But I’m not happy; I’m miserable. I have so much to be happy about. I’m the captain of Manchester United. Manchester Friggin United. That is a dream for millions of people, if not far more. It was my dream. Not now. Now my dream is to get through the day and get home, then close the door and close the world away. But the thing is, when I close the world out, I block it from view. I still feel like this. I feel trapped in my own mind. I feel such pain. It’s an invisible pain, but it’s the realest pain I’ll ever feel. It’s not getting a pair of studs raked down my calf, which is agonising, by the way, but it’s equally as painful because depression isn’t something I can have bandaged up by a doctor. No, it’s far scarier. It’s a dark tunnel with no end in sight. Only lightened by splotches of incandescent light here and there.
When people hear someone say they are depressed, some just attribute the person to just feeling a bit sad sometimes. That’s far too simplistic. Depression isn’t something to be characterised like that. It varies from person to person. I have all sorts of things as a footballer: money, fame, and a comfortable life. But I can practically guarantee that a Buddhist monk who has more or less no earthly possessions is more content in this life than me.
Things don’t make you permanently happy; objects don’t. They certainly don’t make me happy. No, it’s inner peace and acceptance of oneself that could lead to a degree of contentment. I don’t have that. I don’t know how to find it or even begin to attempt to find it. I feel trapped in so many ways. In my own head, in my life. In everything. But I love football. I do love it. So what is it that’ll make me content? What will make me not feel this numb feeling when I get up in the morning to go to training? I want football. I want to keep playing. Because without it, I’d feel so lost. I’d probably not even bother to get out of bed in the morning without it. So here’s my question, which I always ask myself: ‘What do I need to find to feel less numb?’ I want to find out. I don’t want to end everything, so this pain that’s invisible no longer exists. I want to find something that’ll give me hope and give me drive.
At the moment, though, as I drive away from another training session, I just have no clue what that is. I hope I find it before I retire one day. Because if I don't, I’m fairly sure I’ll want the end. I’ll want to not exist anymore. As scared as it makes me, I think without football. Without the thing that helps me get out of bed in the morning, I may just want to crumble and fade away against the sharp end of a rock at the bottom of a cliff.