Marco Reus 🇩🇪German National Team 💛🖤Borussia Dortmund
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@marchino11: Our newest baby Reus💕 You're so loved already, our little princess👑 #HappiestInTheWorld #ProudDaddy
As soon as the reality of the situation hit me, I had to try my hardest to not break out in tears. He's a dad now. Marco Reus. A dad. To a beautiful baby girl.
I quickly exit Instagram not wanting to see all the congratulations and messages that should've been for him and I. That was supposed to be us.
We made plans all the time about what kind of house we wanted to buy in Dortmund. He wanted a big garden and I wanted a house right in the city centre. He wanted privacy I just wanted a pretty view of the busy streets. Maybe that's why it never worked out, we were just too different. They say opposites attract, but no one ever speaks about how damaging the collision can be.
The first year was great. Signal Iduna Park every second weekend. Holidays to Dubai every international break. The excitement of moving in together and planning our future together.
The second year was when the cracks started to show. Signal Iduna Park every weekend started to feel like a routine. The holidays became suffocating and living in the same house became the furthest thing from happy. A week wouldn't go by where at least one of us went to bed angry at the other. Don't get me wrong, I loved him. Nothing in this world could've stopped me from loving him, it just became too much, but simultaneously not enough.
And the third year was that of our great fall apart. My restlessness was the reason why we called it quits. I couldn't stand being in the same town, seeing the same people, doing the same thing day in and day out. My heart was crying out for a grand adventure. And well, Marco, all he wanted was for us to settle down and start a family.
A thought crossed my mind that maybe if we had kids, things would be better and we'd go back to how we were, but I just wasn't ready for that step. I mean you have kids then what? Your whole life stops. Trips to Paris get cancelled because of school plays. Weekend getaways stop happening because there's no baby sitter. Every living breathing moment is dedicated to ensuring everything is perfect for the baby. Don't get me wrong, one day I want kids, but not right now. I still want to see the world. I still want to chase sunsets and eat street food in France and fall in love with Niagara falls. The unfortunate part about all this is how I wanted to do these things alongside Marco.
I wanted to chase Greek sunsets with him next to me. I wanted to eat street food in France with him warning me about food poisoning. And I wanted to scream "I love you" over the roar of Niagara falls. But I guess he didn't want that. And now he's got what's he's always wanted. A family.
I already know he's got a Dortmund shirt fit for a baby ready with "daddy"on the back. I know the nursery has stuffed footballs and pink teddy bears. I know that the next goal he scores will be dedicated to his new baby. It's like I'm there, I know exactly what's going on, but I couldn't be further away from it all at the same time.
I wanted to travel the world. And I got to do that. I convince myself I'm happy, that a new country every month is good for the soul. But a big part of me still wished to be with Marco. We really had it all, but now he's found love with someone else.
Maybe a part of me was hoping he was miserable without me. That he couldn't go on without me. But I guess it's one of those things where you're perfect for each other, just at the worst possible time.
And the biggest loser of all was me, holding out onto the hope that he'd call me while I was in the Swiss Alps to tell me to come back to Dortmund to work things out. And I'd pretend that I don't spend every waking moment wishing he was next to me exploring the world. I'd pretend like I wasn't calling out for his love when it was my fault for calling it off in the first place.
I close my eyes to prevent the tears from falling. The memories all come flooding back.
"There's no way I can leave this place without your number," he says with a smile. "I don't give my numbers out to strangers," I say. "Well how else am I supposed to make you my girlfriend? We gotta start from somewhere," he says. "Who says I wanna be your girlfriend?" I ask. "Because I don't even drink coffee, but I come to this coffee shop everyday. I at least deserve a date," he bargains. "Fine. One date, how bad can it be," I give in. "Great. Now about that number...."
A smile rises to my face as I remember how we met as clear as day. I wonder if I knew where we'd end up if I would still give him my number. I think about the time when we shared our first I Love You.
We were laying on his couch watching a Man City vs. West Ham United game when he just blurted it out. As one can assume I thought I was hearing things. I lifted my head up from his shoulders with confusion evident on my face.
"What? Too soon?" He asks. "9 months. It's about damn time," I say with a smile, "I love you too, you shady child."
And just as fast as the flashback resurfaced, it disappeared.
Just like the three years we spent together. It went up in flames just like every plan we made for our future. It felt like a stabbing pain in my stomach just like this single Instagram post.
Marco Reus. Footballer. Ex boyfriend. Father.
Wrap your head around that one Dani, he's the one that got away.
The irony of it all: he loved me when I wasn't ready. I loved him when it was too late. Just like the wolves love for the moon, they will never touch. They will never align. And above all else, they'll be nothing but a recurring memory.
