Obsessed | Jude Bellingham

46.

Jude Bellingham
Closure
Present Day
•••

Days turned into weeks, and life kept moving forward, indifferent to the feelings I carried inside me. On the surface, everything seemed perfect—new endorsements, new campaigns, breaking records, and adding titles. It was the dream football career, the one I had worked for my entire life. But underneath it all, I was just trying to keep myself together.

I threw myself into the game, training harder than ever before. I spent more hours in the gym, pushing my body to its limits, as if I could outrun the thoughts that haunted me. I found new hobbies, distractions to fill the empty spaces where memories threatened to slip in.

I spent more time with friends, filling the silence with their laughter, their stories, their lives. Anything to keep my mind occupied, to keep from remembering what I was trying so hard to forget.

But no matter how busy I kept myself, there were moments when it all came crashing back. Late at night, when the world was quiet and I was alone with my thoughts, I couldn't escape it. The pain, the regret—it was all still there, buried deep but never really gone.

I missed her.

Every day, I wished I could undo what had happened, go back to the way things were before everything went wrong. I looked out the window at the view as we drove to a place , my thoughts swirling, drowning in memories.

I loved her—more than anything. I hoped she knew that. I hoped she felt it in every moment we spent together, that she knew how much she meant to me. Regardless of how we ended.

On the outside, people thought I was the luckiest guy alive. They saw the success, the accolades, the interviews where I said all the right things,to the point I became a 'PR merchant'. But they didn't see the heartbreak, the silent fight I was waging every single day. It's so important to be nice to everyone because you can never know or see what they are dealing with behind the scenes.

There were whispers now, conversations about me being called up for the Ballon d'Or. It was surreal, something I couldn't wait to share with her— it wouldn't be the same, it felt like she was where she was because of me. It's unfair of me to tell her what's going on in a world she no longer can be apart of.

Nothing felt right anymore. I scoffed at the irony, at how on the outside, I was the golden boy of football, while inside, I was anything but.

The car came to a stop, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked around, feeling a sudden chill as I stepped out. The place was gloomy, an atmosphere thick with something I couldn't quite name. I walked forward, my feet moving on their own, my heart heavy with anticipation. Each step felt harder than the last, my breath coming in shallow bursts as I approached my destination.

And then, I stopped. The sight before me made my heart lurch in my chest. The tombstone stared back at me, cold and unfeeling, the finality of it all crashing down on me. "Here lies Lana Martinez," the stone read, the words searing into my mind.

My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground, tears streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking as the weight of my guilt crushed me. I had held these tears in for so long, but now they flowed freely, unstoppable.

A voice startled me, breaking through my grief. "I'm so happy you did this," Alexis said softly. For a moment, I had forgotten she was with me, her presence barely registering in my overwhelmed mind.

I stood up, wiping my face as I tried to regain some composure. "Thank you," I muttered, my voice thick with emotion.

Alexis hugged me, offering a small comfort. "May this bring you peace," she said, her words both a hope and a prayer.

But as I looked down at the tombstone again.
I loved her, but it was time to get my closure and move on. free myself of the guilt I harbored. I reached for Alexis hand, she smiled and reached back before leading the way as we left.

•••