August was the month I grew in love, and in patience for
this man. Yet, he was a hard case. I wanted to show him that friends (real
ones) and lovers (real ones) didn’t exclusively distribute time, affection or effort.
If there was one thing I was good at, it was remembering dates. In particular that month, I remembered it had been a year since his mother passed away. He was being a particular troll that day. Finally, at 10pm, I looked at him and said, "I know today is difficult for you, it's the day your mom died. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."
I will never forget his face. His eyes widened, in shock. He said, "That was TODAY? Oh my God, I had almost forgotten. Without you, I never would have remembered."
I sat with him and held him as he updated his profile photo in remembrance of his mother, and I held him close as tears streamed down his face. The only words he could muster by the end of the night were, "Thank you. Thank you for reminding me, thank you for being here, just...thank you."
I knew he was getting to a place of emotional healing that he needed to be, but that still wasn't good enough for stubborn old me. As September and baseball season ebbed closer, I remember the way things went down.
I had asked him MONTHS prior, “You play baseball. Why don’t any of your ‘friends’ come and see you play?” He had no answer.
I said, “That isn’t right Jon. It just isn’t. If people are your friends, they would support you.”
He said, “I don’t ever tell anyone when my games are.”
"No, you don't, but you DO post about it on Facebook, and you also check in. You wouldn't behave that way if you didn't hope that someone would care enough to come and watch you do something you love to do. Has anyone?" I retorted -- already knowing the answer.
He replied, "No, they haven't."
If there was one thing I was good at, it was remembering dates. In particular that month, I remembered it had been a year since his mother passed away. He was being a particular troll that day. Finally, at 10pm, I looked at him and said, "I know today is difficult for you, it's the day your mom died. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."
I will never forget his face. His eyes widened, in shock. He said, "That was TODAY? Oh my God, I had almost forgotten. Without you, I never would have remembered."
I sat with him and held him as he updated his profile photo in remembrance of his mother, and I held him close as tears streamed down his face. The only words he could muster by the end of the night were, "Thank you. Thank you for reminding me, thank you for being here, just...thank you."
I knew he was getting to a place of emotional healing that he needed to be, but that still wasn't good enough for stubborn old me. As September and baseball season ebbed closer, I remember the way things went down.
I had asked him MONTHS prior, “You play baseball. Why don’t any of your ‘friends’ come and see you play?” He had no answer.
I said, “That isn’t right Jon. It just isn’t. If people are your friends, they would support you.”
He said, “I don’t ever tell anyone when my games are.”
"No, you don't, but you DO post about it on Facebook, and you also check in. You wouldn't behave that way if you didn't hope that someone would care enough to come and watch you do something you love to do. Has anyone?" I retorted -- already knowing the answer.
He replied, "No, they haven't."
So, I took some initiative. After seeing the location on Facebook several times, I knew where his games were, and knew his team name, so I looked it up online. I thought it was sad and
(frankly pathetic) that his “friends” couldn’t do the same. I looked up his
baseball schedule and told Jessica that we were going on a mission (to the
Missions) one Friday night.
So we did. We showed up when he had a game, without saying a word to him about it prior. And never in my
life have I seen a man’s eyes glow the way his did that night. Naturally, I
played it cool, but he was in love with the fact that I took the time to not
only go and find him doing what he loved the most, but that I also brought a
cheerleading section for him. We laughed, we clapped and we had a great time.
Immediately after, he didn’t want us to leave. He said, “Hey, do you all want
to go and have dinner?” And we did. And these were the days that he was “playing
it cool” and “not wanting to admit we were together.” And I wasn’t having it…so
he spent a lot of time being mad at me. It became an interesting time….
But, as Jessica and I drove home that night, she said to me, "Love really does change a man. His eyes. it was all in his eyes. He didn't want us to leave...and he couldn't stop staring at you all night."
I remember telling her, "Yes, it does change things. So does patience. And I'm willing to be patient as I wait for him to become something great...."
Which leads us directly to the next argument.
But, as Jessica and I drove home that night, she said to me, "Love really does change a man. His eyes. it was all in his eyes. He didn't want us to leave...and he couldn't stop staring at you all night."
I remember telling her, "Yes, it does change things. So does patience. And I'm willing to be patient as I wait for him to become something great...."
Which leads us directly to the next argument.
He would say, “Shauna, I know how I am when I am in a
relationship with someone. I’m a dick. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.
I am who I am, and I can’t change.”
My reply to him was always the same, “Jon, you choose to be a dick.
You said you love me. You said you respect me and don’t want to hurt me. Prove
it. You aren’t who you are, you are who you choose to be.”
And, on August 19th of that year, I heard him
struggle with his own statement for the first time. He began to say, “I am who
I…” and then he stopped short, before even allowing himself to finish a statement that he knew drove me nuts, and abruptly and said, “Grrrr. You make me crazy.” And,
making him crazy is my specialty.
I challenged him…in a way that few people could. Often times I never ever realized how what I would say to that man would sink in, plant a seed and grow until months later. That’s just how he is.
I challenged him…in a way that few people could. Often times I never ever realized how what I would say to that man would sink in, plant a seed and grow until months later. That’s just how he is.
Ah September. He was a hard case, this one. He fought me
tooth and nail about being “officially” in a relationship, despite the fact
that we were unofficially in one. And it drove me bonkers. One day, in
September things blew up. I told him, “In or out, there is no half way. Half
way, people get hurt. You need to make a decision. I’m either your friend, your
lover or your girlfriend, but there is no more half way.” And man…when I stood
my ground, things changed.
I remember the day like it was yesterday. He was messaging
me on Facebook all day, after texting me that morning -- to which my response was very short and unyielding. I had a MAJOR event that day that I was working. I had no time to argue with him. By the time I was able to read the thesis he had sent to me, it was the last few words that really meant something...
He said, “I can’t think. I can’t focus at work. I can’t do a damn thing. This is driving me crazy. All I can see or hear is you, and all I can think about is you. I can’t do anything. I can’t function, Shauna. And that’s not like me.”
He said, “I can’t think. I can’t focus at work. I can’t do a damn thing. This is driving me crazy. All I can see or hear is you, and all I can think about is you. I can’t do anything. I can’t function, Shauna. And that’s not like me.”
Me, resolute, said, “Good, that’s a sign you need to make a
decision. If you’re coming to
And oh how he “hated” me for “pushing” him. But he loved me
for it all the same. And that was September…..well, part of it.
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