09.22.09
One Matt too many!
July 2005
Why was Married Matt contacting me after two years?
When we ended our affair in April of 2003, it was not amicable by any stretch of the imagination. He had lied to me about the fact that he and his wife, Katie, were trying to get pregnant since he knew that was a deal breaker for me. He he tried to convince me that we(!) should go to counseling at the same time that he was preparing for his wife to give birth. When I told him that we were over and that he should extricate himself from his already-strained relationship with our mutual friends to focus on his marriage, he claimed that made sense to him, but then lied to those friends about me.
I last heard from Married Matt via an e-mail in September of 2003, announcing the birth of his son. I was already over him by that point so I wrote a trite response to congratulate him and Katie. I even added a line about how lucky his son was to have the two of them as parents. (Yeah, that was a white lie, but at least Katie is a wonderful mother. One outta two ain’t bad, right?)
Now, in 2005, I wasn’t sure why Married Matt was Instant Messaging me. But, curiosity definitely got the best of me so I clicked the “Accept” tab to begin chatting with him. We IM-ed for over an hour. During that time, I kept waiting for him to say something beyond the usual pleasantries one associates with catching up with an old friend. But, the chat was void of apologies or declarations of any emotion. I was so confused that as I was online chatting with Married Matt, I called my friend, Marisa, at work.
Me: Hey, you have a sec?
Marisa: Sure. What’s up?
Me: Matt just IM-ed me.
Marisa: Okay. And?
Me: No….not that [Philly] Matt [the guy I had recently started dating]. Married Matt!
Marisa: You’re KIDDING?!? What does he want?
Me: I don’t know. This is sooo odd. He just keeps talking about innocuous stuff.
Marisa: Keep IM-ing him and call me later.
Me: Thanks girl! I just needed to tell someone. Love you.
I didn’t mind chatting with Married Matt, but I finally decided to ask him what prompted this chat.
Me: It’s great to hear from you, but I’m kind of wondering why you are getting back in touch after all this time…
Married Matt: I was thinking about you and wanted to see how you were doing. No big agenda. Just missed you in my life.
Me: OK. I get that.
Married Matt: Maybe we could go out for a drink later this week to catch up in person?
Me: Sure.
Married Matt: Would Friday afternoon work for you?
Me: Yeah, that would work. I just need to get in the office by around 3.
Married Matt: K. I’ll text you on Friday with a time and place then.
As I’m writing about this in the present day, it’s tough for me to even understand why I even wanted to spend any time with Married Matt. But, if I’m being honest with myself (and you all), I think there were two reasons why I didn’t ignore him back then:
1. I had broken up with Baseball Boy less than two months ago. I wanted some resolution to that relationship [read: an apology], but as evidenced by our recent e-mails, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. There is a side of my personality that still believes in Happy Endings, and I think I transplanted my unsatisfied feelings about the end of my relationship with Baseball Boy to Married Matt. If I couldn’t get the apology I needed (deserved?) from Baseball Boy, maybe I could get Married Matt to admit that he was wrong for how he treated me in the past?
2. I didn’t want to get back with Married Matt. But, I wanted the satisfaction of knowing that he wanted to be back with me…that he wasn’t entirely happy in his marriage…that he felt bad for lying to me. (I don’t normally revel in others’ misery, but when I get burned, all bets are off!)
After over two years, I was going to see Married Matt on Friday. What was I doing?
(Hindsight is definitely 20/20.)
Next Posts: Drinks with Married Matt, Philly Matt’s first trip to DC and getting back in touch with another ex-boyfriend. 2005 was definitely an eventful year!
09.20.09
The calm before the storm
June-July 2005
I was still on a high after my night in Philadelphia with Philly Matt. Even though I hadn’t spent much time with him since we met two months ago, I felt different around him. Or, maybe, I reacted differently to him because he didn’t fit the mold of the guys I tended to date. He communicated. He was compassionate and respectful. He was hot, but he was also very down-to-earth.
Unlike Baseball Boy, Philly Matt was emotionally available. And, even more importantly, unlike Married Matt and Lawyer Boy, Philly Matt was single! I was done with complicated relationships and just wanted something normal for once. (I know, miracles happen!)
Upon my return to DC, Philly Matt and I started talking on the phone and chatting online regularly. He was a great listener, and I felt like he had my back. I had hoped to see him for July 4th, but he decided to work that weekend. I offered to head up his way and relax at a hotel while he was working, but he thought that it would be best to wait to get together. At first, I was irked by his response, until he explained:
If I was at work, I would be way too distracted to do my job if I knew that you were nearby. And, I would feel bad about not being able to devote all my time that weekend to you. Let’s wait until we can spend the entire weekend together.
My natural reaction would be to be disappointed that I wasn’t going to see him, but I realized that he was trying to honor his professional commitments, while also prioritizing his time with me. I could respect that.
I’ve had quite a few ambiguous relationships in which I was kind of/sort of/maybe a couple with a guy. A common denominator in those relationships was that we had sex soon after we started dating. This time around, though, I was prepared to get to know Philly Matt and wait to bring sex into the mix until we were a couple.
And, as much as I hated to admit it, I still had feelings for Baseball Boy. Yes, he had treated me horribly, but I couldn’t just stop caring about someone I’d known for 10 years. A part of me hoped for another chapter or at least a more amicable ending to our relationship. Since I still felt that way, I didn’t want to do anything that would make Philly Matt the rebound guy by default.
Unlike my past relationships, though, Philly Matt and I talked about where we both were coming from and what we both were looking for. I was honest with him regarding why I wanted to wait to have sex until I was in a relationship. It seemed like I had finally met a guy with whom I was on the same page – and that made me really happy!
In early July, Philly Matt and I were making plans for his first weekend down in DC. I was in a content and calm place in my life personally and professionally. That is, until the following message popped up on my AOL screen:
Married Matt would like to chat with you. Accept or Ignore.
He’s Baaaack!!!
Next Post: One Matt too many!
09.18.09
It’s always sunny with Philly Matt
June 2005
Surprise and Heartbreak with Baseball Boy was over, and (not surprisingly) so was our relationship. Lawyer Boy had married Darby. And, I had thankfully decided not to go out with The Crummer for the third time that month. (I like Bad Boys, but not Bad Boys who inject drugs into themselves with call girls. Hey, we all have our limits, right?)
I left NYC a day early to stop off in Philadelphia to go out with Philly Matt. We hadn’t seen each other since my Girls’ Weekend in Philadelphia in late April. I got off the train and took the escalator up to the main level of the station. There Matt was…looking as fine as ever in his jean jacket and French Connection t-shirt. We gave each other a long, close hug, and I sighed to myself. It felt good to (finally) choose a nice guy!
Philly Matt had less than 24 hours to plan our date, but he still put some thought into it. We drove off to a restaurant in Olde City. There was a fireplace inside with a lot of warm wood and European beers on tap. The restaurant was casual, but romantic. We grabbed a drink at the bar, while we waited for a table. He turned to me and said,
“It’s already 8. I’m happy to bring you back to the station after dinner so you can get a train back to DC tonight. But, on the chance that you wanted to stay over, I reserved a room for you at the Westin. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, and I’m happy to go home tonight or sleep on the couch in the hotel room. I just wanted to spend as much time with you as I could, and I didn’t want to worry about you on the train at midnight.”
I looked at him and smiled, “That was really thoughtful, Matt. I would love to stay over. I’m sure the couch will work, too.”
In less than an hour, Philly Matt had exhibited several qualities that I wasn’t used to seeing in the guy that I was dating. (Thoughtful and communicative guys might be the norm for some girls, but not me.) I could tell that I was ready for a nicer guy because his comments and actions didn’t scare me off in the slightest.
Matt sat at the bar for over an hour, talking about his children, my job and how we met. When we finally got to a table, I realized that I hadn’t stopped smiling since he picked me up from the station. Philly Matt made me laugh and feel safe all at the same time.
I could tell that I liked him when I showed him my dorky side. He excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I took one of my business cards out of my purse and wrote a little note on the back about how fine he was. When he returned to our table, he saw the card on his chair, read it and laughed out loud.
After dinner, we went over to Club 27 where we met. We danced a bit. And, then, that part of me that can over-think relationships with men kicked into gear. For over two years, my world revolved around Baseball Boy. Even when I was seeing other guys, I just viewed them as temporary companionship (read: sex) and would drop everything for Baseball Boy. Now, I was looking at Philly Matt and only thinking about him. Did he have boyfriend potential?
We didn’t stay long at the club since it was packed. We headed back to the Westin, and I set some ground rules: I didn’t want to do anything south of the border. If he was okay with that, I was fine with him sleeping in the bed with me.
Philly Matt wasn’t just fine with that, but he thought that it was smart to take things slow and get to know each other. Wow! Now, that was refreshing!
Our time together in the hotel room reminded me of the second night that we spent together in April. His mouth was so warm. His tongue was engaging and passionate without being sloppy. When he kissed me, I felt weak in the knees – no matter whether we were standing up or lying down.
In the morning, we woke up and just picked up where we left off. We made out for over an hour like we were in high school. At noon, he realized that he didn’t know when checkout time was. He picked up the phone and called the front desk.
“Yes, I was wondering what time checkout is? [Pause.] Noon, huh? [Pause.] As in, right now? [Pause. He laughs.] Well, would it be possible to have a later checkout? [Pause.] Thank you!”
We had another two hours. Oh, in case you’re wondering how we spent that time, we used 15 minutes to get ready and 1-¾ hours to kiss each other some more. I know that we had brunch afterward, but couldn’t tell you where or what we talked about. I just remember boarding the train that afternoon to DC and thinking that I would be spending much more time in Philadelphia. *Sigh*
xoxo
Next Post: Continuing with 2005 tales involving Philly Matt and not one, but two, ex-boyfriends.
09.14.09
My Top 10 Posts
A huge shout-out to W*USA 9 reporter, Angie Goff, for her wonderful write-up about my blog!
For those of you who are new to my blog, I alternate between posts about my past relationships, and entries about my current dating adventures. Since my stories aren’t in chronological order, I try to include internal links within the posts to help fill in the blanks. I also mix up my true tales with sex and relationship advice in response to questions from friends and readers.
I’ve noticed that several other bloggers have a list of their Top 10 Posts. I thought that now might be a good time for me to do that. Here are my 10 favorite posts, in order of preference:
1. All the Single (and Proud of It) Ladies…Now Put Your Hands Up!: I don’t think that single women of any age should hang their heads in shame or feel like they need to get married or have children because of societal norms. Do what makes you happy!
2. Lawyer Boy on My Mind in 5-7-5: A haiku about my ex-boyfriend, Lawyer Boy. I think this is the most heartfelt piece of writing on my blog.
3. Anal 101: This post has gotten the most hits. The entry stemmed from a spiel that I’ve given friends over the years who were wondering about anal sex.
4. Purple Thong Boy: I wish that I had a video to capture just how amusing this experience was. Seven years later, this story still makes me laugh!
5. Blow Job Lips: This post is simultaneously racy and funny (like me). It also serves as a reminder that a girl should always carry lip-gloss with her!
6. Finger-Licking Good – Part III: The only post that turned me on as I was writing it. Allegedly ;).
7. Heartbreak – Part II: Why Baseball Boy and I broke up. This post and the rest of the Surprise and Heartbreak series were the toughest entries for me to write.
8. “Mom, I Think I Have Frostbite:” I spoke with a publishing agent a couple of months ago. He told me his strategies for getting my posts out to a larger audience, noting that “the chick lit market is oversaturated.” I appreciate how I’m just another female relationship blogger to him. But, I found it ironic that the last entry I had written before we talked was about having sex as I started to go paralyzed. My life has (thankfully) never been normal.
9. A Horrible First Date: Arrogance is a deal breaker for me – and so are fanny packs!
10. My Sex Sabbatical: I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’m a very different person than I used to be.
If I was throwing a few more posts on this list, I always laugh at “Yes, I Broke My Nose Having Sex,” and think that “The Perfect Home” was my most well written piece about my relationship with Married Matt. “The Art of Staying Down – My Oral Sex Musings” is also the post that has been linked to the most on other blogs. And, I like that “I’m a Sex Blogger” speaks to the double standard that exists in our society with respect to sex and the sexes.
08.28.09
More bumps off of my lady lumps
June 2005
I was just starting to fall asleep when I was awakened by The Crummer’s call.
The Crummer: Hey! Were you sleeping?
Me: I had just started to. What’s up?
The Crummer: I just got to town. Meeting with my partners at Chloe in Adams Morgan. Come over!
Me: I don’t know…maybe. Is Joe going to be there? [Joe was one of Baseball Boy’s best friends and one of The Crummer’s business partners. The procedure was only eight days ago so I didn’t want to face a barrage of questions about the pregnancy or our breakup at a club.]
The Crummer: No, he’s not. Just come. I want to see you. I’ll tell the bouncer to let you skip the queue.
Me: K. See you in 30 or so.
I arrived at Chloe. It wasn’t bad, but I just wasn’t a club girl anymore. It also didn’t help that: 1) The Crummer didn’t give the bouncer a heads up so I had to play the dumb chick card to skip the queue and the cover; and 2) The Crummer and his partners were in a back room for over an hour, discussing business over vials of cocaine. Allegedly.
DC is small so I knew some of the people in the club, and the music was good. But, my days of dancing on the platform were behind me. I also lost whatever tolerance I had for being around guys doing coke. (If you want to do that kind of stuff, that’s your choice. I just would rather be elsewhere at the time.) By 2:30am, I was tired and wanted to go home.
That was not in the cards, though. The Crummer said that he wanted to go see a friend, John, to get some more blow. Great! [Insert eye roll.]
We arrived at John’s house, and our friend, Justin, also happened to be there. [Justin has known The Crummer since they were riding their Little Tikes. Justin is also friends with Lawyer Boy. Back when Lawyer Boy and I were dating, I found out from Justin’s ex-girlfriend that Lawyer Boy had a girlfriend. Yes, my world is crazy small! Oh, and, Justin and I had recently gotten in this habit of making out at parties when we were single and bored.]
I said hello to John and walked over to Justin. He started making out with me. Since he’s a great kisser, I was happy to oblige. I heard The Crummer in the background asking, “What is up with that?”
“Just saying hello,” I replied. Hehe.
The Crummer asked to borrow some porn from John, and he and I started watching a very hot DVD. That kept me entertained enough to deal with how messed up everyone in the room was getting. At 5am, we headed out. (I was cursing the fact that I was running a legal clinic in a few hours. Even though I don’t imbibe, I still need my beauty sleep.)
The Crummer and I went back to my place, and did much of the same things that we did last time. He took bumps off of my naked body (allegedly), and we kissed each other a little bit. Then, he went in the other room to enjoy his high. When the sun rose, he came back to bed.
Unlike last time, we talked about having sex with each other. I didn’t want to get into why I had to wait another week to have sex, but I did let him know that I was very attracted to him and that I would be visiting NYC next weekend.
Me: Maybe we could spend some time together when I’m up in the City and see what happens?
The Crummer: Sure. That would be great!
In the morning, I got ready for work and gave him a little kiss goodbye. I told him that he could stay as long as he liked (I’m way too trustworthy sometimes), and he mentioned grabbing lunch after I was done.
Me: I’ll call you as I’m leaving the clinic.
Four hours later, I checked in with him. He was still at my place and wanted to get some food. I told him that I was on my way home, and he agreed to wait for me.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into my place and it was very quiet. I called for The Crummer, but he was nowhere to be found. My bed was made (plus), but he was gone (minus).
I called him.
Me: Where are you?
The Crummer: Oh! I decided to head home.
Me: What? You said you would stay at my place and we would go out to lunch! I would have made plans with my friends if I had known you wouldn’t be here. Not cool, Crummer!
The Crummer: I’m sorry. I’m really beat, but I’ll make it up to you when you come to the City.
Me: Fine.
I hung up the phone, took off my suit and got into bed. I didn’t care enough about The Crummer to be mad, and I was beyond tired.
Next Posts: Thoughts on threesomes, how I meet so many guys, and my trip to NYC.
PS Thanks to Erika for giving me the idea for the title of this post! She used this line in a comment to one of my earlier posts about The Crummer. xoxo
08.27.09
Out with the old…
June 2005
After going through such Surprise and Heartbreak, I didn’t run from my feelings (as easy as that would have been). I took the time to process the experience, my sadness and my anger, writing a lot in my journal and talking with friends.
Philly Matt had tried to reach me several times during the week I learned that I was pregnant and had the procedure. I texted him that I had a lot going on, but would call him soon. He texted back that he hoped I was okay and that I could call him anytime.
Philly Matt and I had seen each other for two nights almost six weeks ago when I was visiting Philadelphia. Since then, we talked on the phone and IM-ed pretty regularly. Neither of us asked nor offered up any information about our relationship status.
I wouldn’t say that I played Philly Matt, but I kept him on the back burner while I figured out where things with Baseball Boy were going. Geography helped with that one, as Baseball Boy was moving back to DC and Philly Matt lived 2 ½ hours away. Now, though, Baseball Boy and I weren’t even talking so I felt free to pursue anyone I chose.
When I called Philly Matt on the 6th, I didn’t know what I was going to say. He asked me what was wrong, and then it hit me. Either Philly Matt and I would be friends or we would start dating. Regardless of which option came to pass, I would want his support. So, I exhaled and briefly caught him up on the events of the last 10 days.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, City Girl. Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to come down?”
Wow! Baseball Boy wasn’t there for me, even though I had known him for 10 years, dated him for three, and the baby was his. I barely knew Philly Matt, and he offered to be there for me — and I didn’t even have to ask for his help. To say that he won huge points with me because of this would be an understatement!
“Thanks. I think I’ll be ok. And, I would definitely like to see you. Maybe we could try to get together in a few weeks?” I suggested.
“Just say when. I’ll make time for you,” Philly Matt replied.
After being in a pseudo-relationship with Baseball Boy for several years, it was beyond refreshing to find a guy who wasn’t shy about his feelings! I left things with Philly Matt open because although I was very attracted to him, I didn’t want to rush into anything. I decided to think with my head for once and process my break-up (if you could even call it that) with Baseball Boy before getting back on the dating horse.
The following evening, I received a text…from Lawyer Boy:
I just got back from vacation and wanted to let you know that I got married while I was away.
I stared at my cell phone and rolled my eyes before responding:
Not sure what you want me to say. Congrats to you and sorry for her?!? Thanks for telling me yourself, tho.
It’s ironic that I rang in 2005 with texts from Lawyer Boy and Baseball Boy, and now, I was barely talking to the former and had no desire to talk to the latter. A lot had changed in less than six months.
A few days later, I climbed into bed early on a Friday night after a long week only to be awakened by my phone vibrating at 11:30pm. Who was on the other line? The Crummer.
Maybe there was some fun yet to be had this month…
Next Post: What happened next with The Crummer and Philly Matt?
08.26.09
Maybe the three wrong words were better than this!
June 30 – July 1, 2005
I had pressed the ’send’ button and let Baseball Boy know what I was thinking. I told him how much he had hurt me by his words and inactions in response to the news that I was pregnant. Four weeks later, he sent me an e-mail that said only: How are things? That merely added insult to an injury that was just starting to heal.
The following afternoon, he replied to the e-mail that I copied in my last post. In Point/Counterpoint fashion, Baseball Boy’s words are in regular type, my thoughts (from my e-mail to him later that evening) are in italics, and my thoughts now are in bold:
Baseball Boy: You know, the purpose of my email was to open up some positive dialogue not be casual…but it is pretty apparent that from both of our perspectives, there is nothing positive to say.
City Girl: I wish you had told me in the previous e-mail that you wanted to open up some positive dialogue between us. That is what I had wanted, too. I hope that you can appreciate that by not hearing from you for several weeks and by then receiving a “How are things?” e-mail, that I was confused and did not know what you were thinking.
Now: Positive dialogue typically requires more than three words.
Baseball Boy: I will not apologize for my opinions nor try to defend them. It is apparent that you took what negative you wanted to out of my statements and if you are using that anger as fuel to get you through this then go ahead. But you should ask yourself this question. If I viewed you the way that you said I do, why would I have hung out with you for 3 years? If it was just sex don’t you think that I could have found that somewhere else rather than hear every 3 or 4 months that you weren’t just some booty call?
City Girl: I didn’t know how you felt about me and us because you never really told me. I definitely hoped that you didn’t see me as a booty call, but I never knew.
Baseball Boy: Your assertion that I should have been flexible enough with my schedule to accommodate your appointments with less than 24 hours notice is absurd. I even asked you to push back the appointment until I could be there. YOU said no, not me. Your statement about not being there for you is another example of you hearing what you want to hear, not hearing what I said.
City Girl: I appreciate that you did not want to rearrange your schedule to go with me with 24 hours’ notice. But, I had hoped for more support from you throughout that week, and didn’t feel like I was getting it. Since I was not keeping the baby because of the risk to my health, my doctors and I did not think I should wait. I totally admit that I said, “no” to pushing the appointment back so that you could come with me.
Now: I can’t even believe that I responded to this e-mail. After I found out that I was pregnant, he wouldn’t come over when he was done coaching — let alone spend the night with me. He wouldn’t go to the initial doctor’s appointment or reschedule his work to make it to the procedure. Wasn’t this a situation that warranted a personal day? I should have said, “Game over,” right then and there. But, at that time, I held out hope that there would be a happy – or at least better – ending to our relationship story. And, I’m sure I was feeling very vulnerable.
Baseball Boy: [He writes about how he "bought" my story that I couldn't get pregnant and how I should have discussed my birth control methods with him.] Because I have known you for some time, I am trying to avoid the accusations that the timing of all this (surrounding my move back, owning my own company, etc.) was somehow planned. I am avoiding it because it is not the issue and accusing you of that does not make this situation any easier for both of us. But it does look pretty damn suspicious.
City Girl: In response to your comments about whether this was planned: of course not! This past month is not a month that I would wish on my worst enemy! [In the next few paragraphs, I detail all the reasons – both medical and non-medical -- why I would not have tried to get pregnant on purpose. I also reiterate that my doctors were equally as surprised as I was that I could conceive.]
Now: Oh, is it just me, or does it seem like he wasn’t actually avoiding the topic of whether I had done this on purpose?
Baseball Boy: I have never purposely been malicious to anyone and our case was no different. It wasn’t the time to be trying to figure out how to candy coat my responses. You know that I am not a warm and fuzzy person but after knowing me forever, you should have given me the benefit of the doubt that maybe I had the message and it just came out wrong.
But the good thing is your email provided me some closure. It is obvious there is no friendship to salvage. Do me a favor. Don’t forgive me. Matter of fact, I don’t remember asking you for forgiveness. I hope your anger towards me provides you some valuable relief. If you can look in the mirror and blame everything on me without taking some yourself, more power to you. If you think I am as heartless as you are spouting off to whomever it is that you lean on, we don’t need to be friends. I apologize for checking to see how you are doing.
I hope life deals you the cards you are looking for and that this painful experience is fast to fade.
City Girl: [I indicate that I wanted to reconnect with him and didn't know if that would be possible for us. I also write that there was no right or wrong response to this type of situation, and that we were both trying to do the best we could to get through a difficult time.]
Now: Wow! How wimpy was that?!? In my defense, I was sad and confused at the time, but I still can’t believe that I found any justification for Baseball Boy’s horrible behavior! He chose not to be there for me, and that wasn’t right, responsible or compassionate!
Thankfully, that was then and this is now. I’m in a much different place and have taken my rose-colored glasses off for good!
My posts on Surprise and Heartbreak are done, folks. On so many levels, Thank God!
Next Posts: A fun and eventful June with The Crummer and Philly Matt.
08.25.09
The three little words I didn’t want to hear
After my Heartbreak series of posts, I polled my friends and readers about what I should write about next. There was a 50/50 split as to whether I should write about the rest of 2005 chronologically or whether I should skip to my next interaction with Baseball Boy.
I decided to be the tiebreaker and write about my next conversation with Baseball Boy. Last week’s difficult posts reopened that old wound a bit. I’d just like to plow through this final piece, process the feelings that resurfaced and let the wound close again. If you’re new to my blog, you might want to skip this heavy post and scroll down the page to The City Girl Challenge series.
A huge thanks to my real life and virtual friends for their IMs, comments, tweets and calls! After pouring my heart out on my blog, your support and compassion meant so much to me! (The offers to injure Baseball Boy didn’t hurt either, but I’ll let karma take care of him.)
So, without further ado, let’s go back to June of 2005:
My procedure was on June 2nd. Baseball Boy did not accompany me and sent me an e-mail that afternoon, offering to reimburse me for the costs. I declined that offer, and heard nothing from him for almost four(!) weeks.
On June 28th, I was at work, when I saw a message from Baseball Boy in my in box. There was no subject, as is the norm with his correspondence. I looked to see that my paralegal was occupied with other tasks, exhaled and opened the e-mail. His message contained only three words:
How
.
.
.
Are
.
.
.
Things?
How are things? Are you kidding me? What the fuck does that even mean? I told the paralegal that I needed to step out for a few minutes, and called my friend, Marisa. We tried to figure out where Baseball Boy was coming from (to no avail), and I cursed so much that you would’ve thought I was a sailor.
I waited a few days before responding to the e-mail. I saved our correspondence from this period and have retyped it below:
June 30, 2005
Dear Baseball Boy,
I didn’t write back to you right away because I wasn’t sure how to respond to your e-mail. I don’t feel comfortable having a casual “How are things?” conversation with you.
After knowing you for 10 years and dating you on and off for 3, I loved* you as a friend. I thought that you were someone who I could count on. I was thus very surprised by what you said to me several weeks ago and how you said it. It hurt me deeply that you said things to me that belittled my health, my ability to be a mom, and how my mom raised me, especially since you knew that I was going through a difficult time. I expected more from someone who I have known for so many years.
I also regarded you as a stand-up guy, as a man who handled his responsibilities. I felt as though your reaction to the whole situation was unsupportive, uncaring and completely uncharacteristic for you. I was shocked that you made me go to the doctor’s office alone. Yes, you had to work. Guess what? So did I. I rearranged my schedule to accommodate the additional doctors’ appointments. I believed that you could have done the same if you cared enough to do so. The fact that you did not make any effort to be there for me and made me go to the clinic alone for the procedure is something that will continue to sadden me for a while.
I did not and will not send you the bill. I needed your support physically and emotionally, not financially. It was, is and may always be heartbreaking for me to think about how I was surprisingly able to conceive, that I looked at a sonogram picture of our baby growing inside me, and was then told by my doctors that I should not try to carry to term. Having you there may not have changed what I had to do, but it would have made it a bit easier to deal with if I had your shoulder to lean on.
I am looking for someone in my life who I can count on, who I can support and will support me during good and bad times, and who doesn’t just have me in his life because it’s convenient or the sex is good. I thought you were that guy, but I was wrong.
I know that I will get to the point where I truly forgive you. I know there will be a time when I don’t view you as an asshole and where thinking of you doesn’t cause me to feel either sad or angry. But for now, that seems like a long way off.
City Girl
*That was the first time that I ever used the ‘L’ word with Baseball Boy.
***
Copying that e-mail was a downer :(. One more Baseball Boy and post-pregnancy related post and then I’ll get back to other 2005 tales. More than one of my Usual Suspects comes back into the mix in 2005, but am I strong enough to leave the past in the past?
08.18.09
Heartbreak – Part III (aka Off The Hook)
May 2005
I was pregnant. And, for all intents and purposes, I was on my own in dealing with this. Baseball Boy headed back to Pennsylvania last night, after one of the coldest conversations that I’d ever had with a guy.
(This experience happened over four years ago, yet my eyes are tearing up as I relive what happened. I can easily talk about this with my friends, but putting the story down in words has been much tougher. So with the disclaimer that this is a heavy, draining post for me to write and might also be for you to read, I’ll keep going.)
I woke up on Tuesday morning. In between bouts of morning sickness, I called my office to say that I wasn’t going to make it to work that day. Then I called my doctor’s office. As I expected, the receptionist squeezed me in for a consultation and a sonogram.
During the sonogram, I saw the little peanut-sized embryo on the monitor, and a range of emotions flooded through me. The tech also found a large cyst on my right side, which isn’t that uncommon during the first trimester. (Apparently, my pain was caused by something other than my old hernia.)
I spoke with my doctor who agreed that it wasn’t medically wise for me to try to physically carry a baby. My internist and neurologist agreed with my gynecologist. I left the appointment and bawled on the way to my car.
I always listen to my team of doctors, and this instance was no exception. That doesn’t mean that any of this was easy, though. It seemed beyond unfair that I could actually get pregnant, but wasn’t expected to be able to carry a baby to term.
I made an appointment for the procedure* on Thursday. The nurse indicated that she would call me back on Wednesday morning to confirm that the doctor felt like he was equipped to do the procedure in his office, rather than at a hospital.
Baseball Boy knew that I was going to my doctor, yet didn’t call me. His work in Pennsylvania was very pressing, I’m sure. (Insert eye roll here.)
On Wednesday morning, I received a call back from the nurse that I could get the procedure performed at the doctor’s office. I immediately called Baseball Boy.
Me: Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I scheduled the procedure for tomorrow morning.
Baseball Boy: Tomorrow? I have work. Can you reschedule it for next week?
Reschedule it for next week? This isn’t a lunch date! As if I wanted another week of morning sickness, pain from the cyst, exhaustion and dizziness? Baseball Boy hadn’t been there for me at all over the past three days. Who’s to say that he would have stepped up and even gone with me if I had postponed the procedure?
Me: No.
Baseball Boy: I can’t make it then. I have appointments.
You fucking loser! I got to work today at 8am despite my morning sickness to get out a few filings and reschedule all of my client appointments for the week. You could do the same, but you’re choosing not to!
Me: Okay then.
I went to the procedure the following day, and it was practically a comedy of errors. The office scheduled four appointments for 9am, but no one was there to open the doors to the office until 9:30. I had let them know in advance that I would be dehydrated and need IV fluids right away, but there wasn’t a nurse there to put my IV in until 10:30. Thanks to the dehydration, I got very dizzy and started dry-heaving. Then, the doctor arrived and said that with my health concerns, I should be in a hospital for this procedure. Thanks buddy! There’s not a lot that I can do about that now!
By noon, the procedure was behind me, and I was at home. I rested for several hours. When I awoke, I went online to find the following e-mail from Baseball Boy:
I hope things went well today. It doesn’t seem like we have a lot to say to each other right now, but I’d like to pay for the procedure. Please send me the bill so I can reimburse you.
Seriously? Send him the bill? He has to be joking!
I wrote him back:
I am not and will not send you the bill for the procedure. I needed you there today with me, not your money.
I called my friend, Marisa, who summed it up perfectly. She had a vision of Baseball Boy at his desk, writing a check and saying, “That’s the best $400 that I ever spent!”
After Baseball Boy received the e-mail from me indicating that the procedure was behind me, he called his brother, Fine Bro.
“We’re off the hook!” he exclaimed.
(I heard about this from Fine Bro last year and was speechless. Apparently, Baseball Boy told Fine Bro that he had gotten “a girl” pregnant because the two of them had just signed a contract for the new business venture together. Baseball Boy felt like a baby would affect both of their financial bottom lines and wanted to give his brother/partner a heads up.
As often as I had witnessed Baseball Boy’s lack of compassion, I could never imagine that he was that insensitive. Child support was the most important thing here? Their new company would really be affected by this? He called his brother that day, but not me? Seriously?
In retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have been that surprised. Baseball Boy hadn’t been there for me since I found out the news. He chose to spend the night at his friend’s house and go back to Pennsylvania for work, rather than being with me when I needed his support. Our relationship, my health and this situation were clearly not priorities for him.)
Yes, Baseball Boy, you’re off the hook! But, given just how much of a fucking asshole you are, I think I’m the one who is really off the hook! We had known each other for 10(!) years by this point, and this is how you treated me. I could’ve gotten pregnant from a one-night stand and received more support.
You pick my Next Post:
1. When did I next hear from Baseball Boy and what did he say?;
2. Continue chronologically, which would involve The Crummer and Philly Matt;
3. Post about talking dirty during sex; or
4. Post about how to spice up your love life when you’re in a long-term relationship.
I’m leaning toward #4, but you make the call. E-mail, text, tweet or comment!
*I’m using the word, “procedure,” rather than the ‘A’ word, so this post won’t show up under certain search engines. This is my life and my health, not a political or religious debate. Hope you can respect that :).
08.17.09
Heartbreak – Part II
May 2005
I awoke the morning after finding out that I was pregnant and had neither the energy nor the inclination to think about what I was going to say to Baseball Boy. (The fact that I couldn’t stomach crackers and ginger ale might have had something to do with that.) Exhaustion and nausea trumped all my emotions.
In retrospect, it’s probably a good thing that I wasn’t feeling alert. If I had more energy, our calm discussion could have easily escalated into a heated argument. But, that didn’t happen.
As you read this post, keep in mind that:
1. I met Baseball Boy in 1995 when he was a freshman in college and we were bar buddies for several years;
2. We dated for about a year;
3. We were engaged in a pseudo-relationship for two years after that; and
4. Baseball Boy was almost 30-years-old when we had the following talk.
The words from our conversation on May 30, 2005, are permanently etched in my memory. I didn’t say that much in response to Baseball Boy so I’m including those things that I thought – at the time or after the fact – but never said in italics.
I’m keeping the title for this series of posts as “Heartbreak,” but this could also be called, “What Not To Say When Your Girl Is Pregnant.” Here goes:
[He arrives. I proceed to go into the kitchen to throw up. I return to the couch as he speaks.]
Baseball Boy: I had thought that I wouldn’t be able to sleep last night. But, when I got back to Peter’s house, I slept soundly. The choice is yours, but there’s only one thing in my mind that you should do.
Me: And what would that be?
Baseball Boy: Not have it.
Me: Why do you say that?
Baseball Boy: Well, I never thought you could be a Mom anyway given your health.
OK. Guess he’s not beating around the bush here! There’s a big difference between conceiving a child biologically and being a Mom, but I’m not sure if he could appreciate that distinction.
Me: Really?
Baseball Boy: Yeah.
[I just stare at him.]
Baseball Boy: When you were growing up, didn’t you resent your Mom for how she raised you with her health problems?
Wow! Pulling out the dead Mother card, huh? That’s cold, even for a heartless guy like Baseball Boy. It’s also ironic that he would say that. I was incredibly close to my Mom until she passed away and would never change how I was raised. By contrast, Baseball Boy rarely talks to his mother.
Me: No, not at all.
Baseball Boy: That surprises me…I just don’t see how you can have a kid.
Me: Well, I’m going to call my doctor tomorrow, and I’ll see what she recommends.
Baseball Boy: And, I assume your faith will play a part in your decision.
Now you’re pulling out the religion card. Alrighty! You came over here with guns a’ blazing! What’s next?
Me: I trust my doctors’ advice, but if my doctors say that I can try, then yes, my faith would come into play. I’m sure that my doctors are going to be as surprised as I am that this happened.
Baseball Boy: It’s like the immaculate conception.
[That was not funny to me in the slightest so I didn’t respond.]
Baseball Boy: So, the baby would be born in January.
Me: Yes.
Baseball Boy: This really wasn’t part of my plan right now. I didn’t expect to use the money from the contract that I just signed to support two more people.
Two more people? Was I expecting twins? I was raised not to discuss financial matters so let’s just say that money has never been and never will be an issue for me. I didn’t need a dime from Baseball Boy.
Me: Got it.
Baseball Boy: And, I hope you know that I’m not going to marry you. I don’t see myself ever getting married. I see myself having children, but not like this.
Interesting that we never talked about his views on marriage until I was pregnant. But, how lucky for me that he’s making himself crystal clear about everything now! (Note sarcasm.)
Me: Okay.
Baseball Boy: It’s not like we are like Peter and his girlfriend. When she got pregnant, they could have made it as a family if she hadn’t miscarried. You and I aren’t even in a solid relationship.
So, when I would ask you if I was just a booty call or if we were just friends with benefits, you would say no. But, now that I’m pregnant, you’re treating me like a booty call. Huh.
Me: I didn’t expect you to marry me.
Baseball Boy: I have to go coach now.
Me: Can you come back after your games or go with me to the doctor tomorrow?
Baseball Boy: Negative. I have to get back to Pennsylvania for work. Let me know what the doctor says. I’m really sorry that you have to go through this.
That I have to go through this. So I am on my own with this. Okay.
[I thank him, and we hug goodbye. He walks out of the door. I feel alone, but little do I know at the time just how alone I really am.]
Next Post: If you thought that Baseball Boy couldn’t be more of an asshole, you would be wrong! Yes, folks, the hits just keep on comin’!
