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We always first think about the one who was left behind. Maybe this is because they are the most hurt. And that’s usually right. But why don’t we focus on those who walked away? They’re frequently called the empty-hearted, the bad one, the villain of the story. Yeah, we should pay attention to them. Because, you know what? They have to make difficult decisions, but they don’t know what that can lead them to, what its consequences are gonna be. Deep down, they are not happy. They feel empty, like something was taken out of them. And that was exactly how Mario felt when he left Dortmund.
When he left Marco.
Mario tried to explain himself to Marco infinite times, yet the other one never listened.
‘‘It hurts me, too.’’ Mario whispered, with his head down, looking at the floor beneath him. He couldn’t look at Marco in the eyes. Not when the only person he had ever truly loved was crying in front of him.
‘‘If it really hurts you, then you should have decided to stay.’’
That was the last thing Mario heard from Marco for a long time.
__
Munich was nice. The city was beautiful, the club was amazing, the new teammates were friendly and lovely, it felt like a family, and the fans were beyond awesome. But it wasn’t Dortmund nor neither of his teammates were Marco.
It took him a few weeks to finally adapt to the new ambient. Mario had always dreamt about playing for a great club, like Bayern was. But something wasn’t completely okay.
There were times when he put himself into a melancholy state. This is what I fought for. Why am I feeling this way? He always told himself in his mind. But just the mere thought of Marco brought him down. He had always been able to destroy every single of Mario’s walls. Mario was defenseless when Marco was around him.
I’m defenseless now, and he isn’t even near me.
__
It happened in the middle of a match. He was running along the field with the ball at his feet and when he looked up to pass the ball, his world came down.
‘Pass it. It’s just your mind playing tricks with you!’ Mario yelled at himself in his head.
But he didn’t listen, all he could think about was that he swore he saw Marco standing on the pitch, shouting at him to pass the ball. He stood still, feeling dumbfounded. He was frozen and confused.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He looked up, hoping to see Marco again, but who he saw instead was Thomas, desperately trying to catch Mario’s attention.
Ten minutes after, he was replaced. The reason?
‘‘Why did you take me out?’’ Mario ran his hands through his hair, laughing hysterically.
‘‘You were distracted. I don’t want distracted players on my team.’’ Pep said, the flat tone on his voice saying that the conversation was over.
__
Cheerfulness. That word should be a synonym for Thomas Müller. That guy was always happy. The smile on his face was unerased and his laughter was contagious. It didn’t catch Mario, though.
‘‘Hey.’’ Thomas said one day on training.
It was a stunning day, the sun was shining in Munich. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Of course, they had won an important match against Schalke last weekend for the Bundesliga. They were on top of the table again. That’s where Bayern belongs to.
Mario smiled. Or tried to and miserably failed. ‘‘Hey.’’
Thomas must have noticed because, ‘‘Are you okay?’’ he asked, the concerned look on his face did not match with, well, him.
He knew better than to lie. After all, Thomas had always have this kind of power to know when something was off and make people tell him. And he also knew that his teammate wouldn’t give up until he find the answer totally convincing.
‘‘Not really.’’ Mario said, kicking the grass.
Neither of them said a word for a long moment. Thomas was afraid of asking the reason. But let’s be real, when did Thomas shut his mouth? It’s not like he was heartless, but he needed to know what was troubling Mario in order to help him.
‘‘Is it because of Marco?’’ he said in such a little voice he couldn’t even hear himself.
Mario heard, though. ‘Let him help you.’
He replied with a small nod, while looking down. He didn’t want Thomas to see the single tear that was rolling down his left cheek.
__
‘‘Alright, my pack! Here’s the plan!’’ Thomas announced, getting everyone’s attention.
‘‘There’s no need to call us pack. We’re not animals, Thomas.’’ Manuel said, looking at the younger one with a weird mix of exasperation and fond.
‘‘Oh, there is. And you’re actually animals, my dear Manu.’’ Thomas said, putting his elbows on the table and staring right into the goalkeeper’s eyes. ‘‘You’re a big duck. Mario here,’’ he pointed at said man, ‘‘is the little squirrel that wants its nut back. And Fips is the lion that keep us united.’’
At that, Manuel snorted, Mario looked amused and Philipp looked like he wanted to hit his head against the wall.
‘‘And you’re a hyena.’’ Manu stated, laughing.
‘‘Oh, Manu, you hurt my feelings.’’ Thomas dramatically sighed and clung the collar of his shirt.
‘‘Can we focus, please?’’ Mario said a few minutes after. The three men looked at him, expecting him to say something else but, ‘‘What’s the plan?’’
‘‘Okay, so here it is.’’ Thomas said, his voice was low, barely a whisper. It made the others to gather around him to hear what he was about to say but Philipp had enough of that and patted Mario’s shoulder.
‘‘You. Go to Dortmund.’’
__
Fuck Thomas and his fucked up, stupid plan. Fuck Manu and Fips for being with him on that one.
He should have stopped this. He knew he should’ve and his mind was literally screaming ‘Don’t do it. It’ll make you worse.’
So, he surprised himself when he knocked on Marco’s apartment door. He had a key Marco gave him a long time ago, but that wasn’t his home. He wasn’t welcomed there anymore. Not after what he did.
He held his breath. One, two, three seconds. Nothing. There was no noise inside the house. Is Marco even here? Is he out? Maybe he is sleeping.
Mario was about to go back on his steps to his car and back to Munich when the door opened and Marco’s sleepy face appeared in front of him.
‘‘M-Mario?’’ the blond asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to supress a yawn.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re strong. Don’t cry.
‘‘Yeah, it’s me.’’ Mario felt the tears at the back of his eyes. He fought to keep them there. But he was too happy to see Marco again he couldn’t care less.
Mario threw himself in Marco’s arms and nearly made them both fall on the floor. He felt the older’s one warm breath on his neck. Mario hugged him tightly and whispered apologies in the other’s ear. I’m never going to leave you again.
‘‘It’s okay. People learn to live with the pain.’’
Mario smiled sadly at that, because Marco was actually a piece of sunshine, he didn’t deserve everything Mario put him through. ‘‘They don’t.’’ Mario replied. ‘‘Marco, you know I want you to be happy, right? I don’t care if it’s with another person. You deserve everything and I can’t give it to you. You need to have someone who loves you right, who spoils you when I can't. You need to have someone to wake up next to you every morning without being afraid to break you. Because you’re the most wonderful thing in the world.’’
‘‘We both know that’s not what I need.’’ Marco retorted, ‘‘You are all I need. I can’t have you, I understand. But please, don’t say it’s better for me to be with someone else, if that someone isn’t you.’’
Marco reached his hands to wipe a tear that rolled down Mario’s face. The younger one remembered one thing and smiled, ‘‘You know what Philipp told me?’’
Marco looked confused and shook his head, ‘‘What is it?’’
‘‘He said that home is where your heart is. At first, I didn’t understand. It had no sense for me. But Fips is always right and then, I got it. As time passed, I learnt that Munich wasn’t my home, neither was Dortmund,’’ Mario said, cupping Marco’s face with both hands, ‘‘but you. My heart was always with you. And always will be.’’
Doesn’t matter where I am, you will always be my home.