Football was a very big part of my life. I had never missed a single game. Every Friday night you would always find me decked out in red and gold, cheering on the boys in the most important game (which happened to be every game.) There was an energy from all the other students showing up to support our team that just got you on this high that couldn't compare to anything else. All different kinds of people came together for one reason: to win. And we always did too.

My only great high school memories were those games.

Years later, there I sat. One more time in the stands, watching another generation of the same scene play out before me. And yeah, it was exciting, but it still didnt feel the same.

"Babe, you okay?" my boyfriend asked me looking concerned. Déjà vu?

Flashback

Touchdown! Everyone screamed in excitement, including my boyfriend. How could he be happy right now? He should be completely pissed at me. Hell, I was even pissed at myself. I should have known this was going to happen.

"Babe, you okay?" he asked wrapping an arm around me.

I shook my head. "You should be down there right now."

Yes, there it finally was. That quick flash of sadness or at least some kind of emotion that told me he somehow felt the same way. That he knew he should be down there too but isn't, because of me.

"Hey," he said sweetly, making me look at him. "It's fine. I get to be in the stands with you for once. It is just one game, I'll live."

No matter what he said, it wasn't going to make me feel better. He had skipped too many practices to be with me so he couldn't play in the game tonight.

"It's still my fault. I'm really sorry."

But like always, he wasn't going to give up until he was convinced I didn't blame myself. So we were about to start running circles.

"I like it up here. I've never actually got to watch a game before."

I stayed silent. Still feeling guilty now after all these years.

"What's wrong?"

I kept my eyes glued on the green grass. "That could have been you down there."

He sighed. "It was one game."

"But it was the game!" I protested. He still wouldn't blame me.

He gently turned my face to meet his eyes. "I would rather miss every single game and sit up here with you then be down there playing and having you watch me."

"That was your dream though,"I said defeated. "How can you say that when that was your dream?"

I got the "You've got it all wrong," look.

"That wasn't my dream….." and the crowd suddenly burst out, during halftime? I looked down on the field. All the players were out holding a giant banner.

It read. 'Will You Marry Me?' and it took me way longer then it should have to realize what was happening.

"This was my dream," he said with a cheesy smile, pulling out a tiny velvet box and asking me the question I had known the answer to ever since high school. "Will You marry me?"

"Duh," I whispered