Kai• ros | Julian Brandt

16.

Carlotta's point of view:

When my first, real love and not just some fleeting infatuation broke my heart, I promised myself that I would never suffer because of a man again.

Some women, like Diana, for example, tend to bury their pains at the bottom of a wine bottle, or seek comfort in the arms of another man.

I myself sometimes tend to look for happiness at the bottom of a chocolate box or at the bottom of a wine glass. I don't deny that but more than that, however, I have a tendency to run away.

Fast and far. From everything and everyone. Assuming that this will solve the problem. I would probably attribute this toxicity to my impulsiveness and short temper. Rather than stop and think about it, I prefer to act headlong.

Do you know how I moved to Switzerland with the desire to find that piece of lost happiness there? At the beginning of this decision stood a man. My first love, man, who I let to hurt me.

Is it even necessary to ask what, or rather who, was behind my decision to return home? Of course it was just another guy and another messed up relationship that I was running away from. You already know the story called Luca Landenberger very well.

Let me tell you, running forever is exhausting. Not only does it cost you all your energy, it also costs you your time. That precious, physical quantity that no one will ever give you back.

There is one thing much more precious than our time and that is who we dedicate this time to, who we spend it with. With each escape, I wasn't just running away from the source of my problems and suffering, I was also running away from everyone else. From my family, my friends. From the acquaintances I have made over the years.

After my return to Dortmund, I wanted to make a new, better version of myself. Carlotta, who finally begins to behave in direct proportion to her age. Carlotta, who begins to prioritize her work. And above all, Carlotta, who will limit her flings with men to an absolute minimum.

However, as usual, someone up there laughed right in my face and put Julian in my way. An arrogant, blond football player who suddenly buried all my efforts to be a better me and who, as a bonus to all that, turned my whole life upside down.

He became my stupid fall flirt. A romance whose solid foundations were formed by the tension that filled every space we found ourselves in and also quality sex that gave it the right spice.

Perhaps also because whatever was between me and him had never been labeled a "relationship", I didn't feel the urge to run away.

I felt a lot thanks to him and thanks to the loss of our contact. I felt anxious. I felt pain. Well, I think more than the pain stemming from a broken heart, it was the pain that flowed from my bruised ego. And so, at least for once in my life, I decided not to run anymore. I remained standing in one place. In Dortmund. In Brackel. On Westfalen. In all those places where our common paths have crossed many times before.

It was difficult at first. Seeing him at every turn and pretending that nothing ever happened between us. Well, it was part of our deal. Part of one of our unwritten rules - whatever happens between us, it won't affect our future. Through it all, Julian had to appear in my eyes only as the self-centered football player, and I in his eyes only as the niece of the executive director of Borussia Dortmund. We don't need to talk about how naive it was to think that our affair would have no consequences or do we?

After all, I still held the position of his team physiotherapist. I was determined to stay in that position. My determination was supported by the fact that Julian was ill for a long time at the beginning of the spring phase of the Bundesliga, so we didn't see each other for almost three weeks. But the closer the day of his return to Brackel drew near, the less determined I became. I didn't even know it and suddenly I was crawling on my knees around Bastian's office begging for an exchange. I didn't insist on Marco or Mats this time, I would welcome anyone with open arms, just so I don't have to face Julian Brandt. Bastian finally took pity on me. It cost me a lot of overly sweet smiles, fake tears and promises, but as a result, a whole new profile file landed on my desk.