31. October 6th
Rafael
Iplayed like shit 1yesterday. I was either yelling at my teammates for miniscule mistakes or my head was in the clouds and I should have been yelled at. I missed tackles, my passes were sluggish, so coach pulled me before the first half even ended. I don’t blame him. My head wasn’t in the game because all I could think about was how my best friend loved me, then walked away and cut me off. Anxiety has been crawling its way through every inch of my body and soul since then.
As soon as she left Friday night with Jared, I stood there dumbfounded in my living room for a long time. How long has she loved me? Part of me wanted to say it back. A part that’s been growing more and more comfortable with the deeper level of intimacy between us since our arrangement started.
All I wanted was for her to talk to me, but I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting the reason she was making herself scarce was because she wanted to end what we have. Logically, I knew we were going to end, but I thought I still had a few months, and I was going to do my best to prolong that as much as possible.
Now here I am, wallowing in my bedroom with Razz like I just got broken up with even though we were never… We were never…
I can’t even say it.
My body is sore from my rugby game yesterday, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in my heart.
Her confession threw me off kilter and now parts of my conscience are fighting for the spotlight.
She loves you too,my younger self squeals. Is it just my younger self? I mean, I do love her. I love her more than the average friend without a doubt. When I lived in DC, being away from her for weeks at a time became a normal ache—one that was soothed when we visited each other. But living together again has been everything I wanted. So what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I in so much turmoil over this?
She chose Jared over you,I sneer at myself. Again. I know we said this was open, but it doesn’t hurt any less reminding myself. She probably blew his fucking mind in bed. I wonder if she asked him to role play? I wonder if she was comfortable enough to ask for something kinky and depraved. The thought crushes me like an avalanche. I’m that for her. She told me she’s never been able to trust a partner enough to ask for this stuff, and I took that as an ego boost. I nestled that little fact into my chest for safe-keeping.
God forbid, but if they did sleep together, I hope it was vanilla. What am I saying? I hope it was terrible or better yet, I hope it didn’t happen at all. I hope he repulsed her.
You’re going to lose her,I chide myself. She said she couldn’t be affectionate with me anymore. What would we even look like without that? To what level does she want to back off? She’s my solace, my comfort. I can’t imagine our relationship without affection. Who else would I have this with?
There’s Cora, and while she and I are close, we’re not nearly as affectionate. I think about what our friendship would look like if we were as intimate, but I immediately think of her husbands and I don’t think they’d be happy with me if she and I had that same level of familiarity.
Angie’s words ring in my head again. You can’t keep pretending I’m your wife just because you can’t let anyone else in. Is she right? Have I been treating her like a wife? An image of my moms plays in my mind like an old-timey film. The way they support each other, the way they touch even when one of them is passing behind the other in the kitchen. The way they laugh with each other and the way they would do anything for the other.
Maybe Angie is right.
But I don’t want a spouse, I remind myself. Why would I treat her like a wife if being a bachelor is all I’ve ever wanted? Relationships are work, and while I work hard, they’re not a stress I should be adding to my life. I have enough on my plate. Adding more might mean I’ll lose focus on everything else, and I can’t afford to slip.
I’m not enough for her.I’m not enough for anyone.
The battle in my brain comes to a halt when I see my father’s incoming call. Since Friday night, I’ve been ignoring every phone call and text if it wasn’t from Angie. But a phone call from Papá is rare so I take the opportunity and clear my throat before answering.
“Hey,” I smile.
“Mijo,” Papá bellows in that raspy Texas baritone I miss. “How are you?”
“I’m doing great,” I lie. “How are you?”
“Pretty good for an old man,” he chuckles. “Those babies come yet?”
“No. We’ll be sure to tell you as soon as they do.” God, just saying we has me missing her again. “Why? Have you booked your flight for when the babies come?” I think about him holding the twins and my heart soars. What a sight that will be.
“What? Oh,” he chuffs. “No, uh, not yet. But hey listen. I got a couple of tickets to the Texas Rangers verses Phillies for next week.”
“You got tickets to the World Series?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yeah. Pretty sweet. So anyway, my old pal Carlos moved to Philly a few years back, and he was supposed to come with me, but now he can’t.”
Oh my god, is he going to ask me to go with him? He’s the one who got me into baseball as a kid. My inner child tenses waiting for him to continue.
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Sold his ticket online and got a pretty penny back.”
I deflate. “Oh.”
“Anyway, thought since I was going to be in your neighborhood, we could see each other. Maybe grab lunch,” he says casually, which throws me off.
“You don’t wanna stay with me? I have a guest room.” Can he hear the desperation in my voice?
“Nah, nah. That’s okay. I don’t wanna bug you. I got a hotel anyway.”
“Papá, you won’t be bugging me. I haven’t seen you in…years,” I admit, feeling like an ass for even bringing up the fact that I haven’t made a better effort to visit him.
“That’s why we’re going to have lunch, mijo. I’ll send you my flight details tomorrow, yes?”
Unsettled, I sigh. “Yes.”
“Good. I’m excited to see you. I gotta go now. I’ll see you next week,” he says in that persuasive tone he’s always had.
“Okay. Adios, Papá.”
The call ends and for the first time ever, the weight of the missing te amo feels fitting. I don’t expect him to tell me he loves me. I didn’t realize until college that his love was conditional. I’ve heard him say it to his friends and relatives in a jovial way, and that’s how he’s always said it to me. It’s always been after I’ve done something he’s proud of.
A big part of me is thrilled he’s coming though. So what if I can’t go to the World Series with him? That’s fine. It’s not like I can just get a ticket for one of the most anticipated games of the year. Maybe with his visit we can weave our relationship back together and we’ll start seeing each other more often because of it. Yeah.
I can turn this around; and if I can make this work with him, maybe there’s a chance I can make this work with Angie.
If only I could figure out what this is.
1.Mr. Brightside by The Killers