There are no words.

I was there. Game 7. Shea Stadium. Mets v. Cards.

I surrounded myself with my closest friends. I saw every pitch. I never left my seat. I chanted. I hooted. I hollared. I waved my towel. I kept hope alive, believed when reality should've set in, never stopped dreaming. I did everything I'm supposed to do as a fan to make this night perfect.

I got a hell of a ballgame. I didn't get the fairytale ending.

Cards, 3-1.

I can't quite describe this feeling. It's a combination of a straight gut punch and the depression from realizing it's just a game and the world's still on its axis. It feels slightly off, though. I want to come up with some analogy of baseball as life, but I realize I'm grasping at straws tonight. Making much ado about very little, but this feeling reminds me thoroughly that it's definitely not nothing.

I search for words to elaborate, and I can think of one moment... sophomore year of college, October. I finished watching the Mets lose in 5 in the World Series to the Yankees. That stung. I couldn't find words - but searched the internet reading everything to find them. And I found these two quotes. And they said it all for me.

I thought about them on the way home, the longest ride home. They still ring true. While I cope with the hurt and sadness of Game 7... I keep it in perspective with these few words.

"I cannot get rid of the hurt from losing, but after the last out of every loss, I must accept that there will be a tomorrow. In fact, it's more than there'll be a tomorrow, it's that I want there to be a tomorrow. That's the big difference, I want tomorrow to come." - Sparky Anderson

"It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone." - A. Bartlett Giamatti

It's raining tonight, you should know. Started during the game.