Bittersweet Basketball

I love my sport.
I love my team.
I love the feeling I get when I make a play on court.
I love scoring in people's faces.
I love the look on people's faces when I score in their face.
I love the burn in my muscles after training.
I love the beads of sweat that form on my head and knowing I'm working hard.
I love the feeling of respect I get from my team mates.
I love it when people look at me as if to say "she'll never make that" and I promptly prove them wrong.
I love feeling like even after four years of being out, it feels like I never left.
I love the possibilities, the uncertainties and knowing that whatever we do, we'll always do our best.
I love how protective the boys are of me.
I love the laughs we have on court and off.
I love the feeling of accomplishment.

I love everything about Thursday nights.

I don't love coming home, getting out the shower and hearing "you might have to take basketball easy for a bit".
I don't love my leg.
I don't love the consequences that come from having a really good night.
I don't love having to take it easy.
I don't love waiting.
I don't love four years and still suffering.

I don't love my body for not letting me do what I love.