It sounds plain but it is true. I think us Greeks have something from Ulysses inside us. Maybe it is me more than the average Greeks or then perhaps all people are like this and it makes no sense to recite stereotypes. But it is true that "goodbyes" become harder every time you have to repeat them.
The most recent one in a series that seems too long already, was two nights ago, during dinner at a very nice restaurant in the neighborhood where both me and my father grew up. She was sitting next to me, with so many things to say but still we were talking about a whole load of things that were not important as if small talk would save us from another awful, depressing farewell.
I came back home in sorrow, thinking that there was no song that could make me feel a bit better or at least fill in my blank with music. And then I was saved by the one thing I had deliberately forgotten completely.
I entered my parents house thinking about nothing, having to pack my stuff for the day after, feeling empty just in time for my father to inform me that Manchester United had beaten AS Roma 7-1 in the second leg of their Champions League quarter-final. It has been the greatest performance by the "devils" ever since their historical treble back in 1999 and with no doubt one of the greatest games of the Champions League ever and I had missed it. All the same, I felt no guilt for having chosen to put myself through another painful goodbye. Instead I sat myself in front of the TV to watch the extended highlights of the game. Then came eight brilliant goals, the "theatre of dreams" in full swing, a great night for ManU -although I am the exact opposite of a fun of them- then the great last minute win of Chelsea in Valencia which meant they were through to the other semifinal to meet my beloved Liverpool.
Before I knew, a full hour had passed, as had my initial desperation. My impulsive sadness had sedimented, having given its place to more optimistic thoughts. I went on to pack my suitcase and finish my book, having realized that football had saved my life... or at least my humor
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