Basketball

This kinda just happened? I don't really know but I used to do basketball so this is what happened and stuff.

The smell of sweat and Gatorade. The squeaking of $100 and $200 shoes on the linoleum floor. The bright gym lights burning the eyes. A ball being caught by a hand and swishing through a net.

I love it.

Hearing the shouts of people on the sidelines. Feeling the fabric of the jersey itching your neck. Tasting the cool water and sweat on your tongue. Feeling the burning in your limbs and the claps of your teammates against your back as you score.

I yearn for it.

Tears burn my eyes. My chest spasms as I try not to cry. My hands are clasped and hurt when I dig my nails into my palms. My brand new ball rolls in the corner where I had kicked it in my anger and frustration. I stop trying not to cry and I let my tears fall. I didn't make it, the basketball team. I remember the shock of reading the paper without my name on it. I remember that no matter how hard I tried; I didn't make the team. I remember the disappointment replacing the excitement.

I miss it.