The Day That She Left Me

The Day That She Left Me

    I sat there on my couch watching the basketball game.  The Los Angeles Lakers were playing the Cleveland Cavaliers.  The Lakers were playing the best game of their season, and I was captivated by Lamar Odom’s ability to handle the Cleveland players without showing an ounce of discomfort.  The Cleveland players on the bench seemed to be in pain over the twenty five point deficit that was leading them to their defeat.  I couldn’t help but take part in some of the satisfaction that the Lakers were celebrating near the end of the basketball game, as rest of the team on the bench had risen from the bench, and applauding those on the court, every time they scored in the fourth quarter.
    Basketball has always been my favorite sport.  When I was nine years old, I landed a spot on my first basketball team, as a forward.  Playing a defensive position on a basketball team was a lot of fun.  By the time I had made it to high school, I was still playing basketball.  For four years, I played basketball for my school’s varsity basketball team.  The experience of being on a basketball team for four years in high school was the greatest.  My mom used to tell me that I was such a good basketball player.  Although I never played ball in college, I found it important that I still keep up with the sport.  I spent a few years playing at the community college that I attended, and now that the economy is so bad that I’ve been forced to live with my parents, I find that watching it on TV is the best substitute for sweating it out on the court.
    My girlfriend Heather thinks that she is more important to me than anything, including basketball, and smoking pot.  Heather and I have been together since my junior year in high school.  We were the essential high school boyfriend and girlfriend.  Everyone knew that we were an item.  A lot of times, people would tell us that there was nothing more important in the town that we lived in, than the fact that we were together.  All that meant was that when people saw us making out in the hallway of our high school, or holding hands wherever we went, that people noticed. 
    Heather arrived at my parents’ house shortly after the game ended.  I’d managed to eat a quick dinner after the Lakers game, and Heather’s showing up was helping me begin to relax after all of the excitement on TV.  Heather’s long blonde hair fell into sight when I got to the front door to let her in.  She’d rung the doorbell, but hadn’t bothered to call to let me know she was coming over.  When I opened the door, a gust of cold air followed.  There she was, beautiful as ever.  I loved Heather a lot. 
    Heather did not smile when she saw me.  This was not unusual, because Heather was the type of girl whose life was so normal that there was not any reason for her to crack a smile whenever she saw her boyfriend.  Also, Heather and I had been together for five years, we were very familiar with one another, and our demeanors reflected this, compared to some of the other people we’d seen together during our years as a couple.  For instance, during high school there was a football player and a cheerleader who were always walking around shouting, and being loud, celebrating the fact that they were in love, but no one wanted to see this.  Once, when the football player and the cheerleader were trying to raise school spirit before a big football game, by getting people’s attention in between classes, a person told the football player that he was a faggot, and that the cheerleader was a lesbian.  Also, there was this baseball player and his love, a theatre babe.  During the year, the baseball player would attend his girlfriend’s plays, telling people, whom he didn’t know, how great he thought she was at acting.  The drama babe, in turn, would go to baseball games and cheer so loud for her sweetheart that everyone would turn and look at her and not who was up to bat.  By the fifth or sixth inning of every baseball game everyone in attendance would have had left, because of her incessant cheering, and it would only be her, almost screaming her boyfriend’s name, or just rooting for the home team.  In retrospect, Heather and I had a lot going for ourselves in high school, and have continued to, even though we don’t make big deals about each other.
    Heather came inside.  She didn’t say anything.  She kissed me after I’d closed the door.  We walked downstairs to our basement, where I’d been watching basketball.  We both sat down on the couch.  When we were both comfortable, Heather looked up at me, making eye contact.  Then things got real quiet.  It would get this quiet before we had sex sometimes.  Instead of leaning in to kiss me, and initiate some sex, Heather said three words, “I’m leaving you.”  Then she got up.  She hadn’t taken off her jacket, and was on her way up the stairs, just as fast as she’d gotten down them.  I didn’t bother to get up.  I sat there in bewilderment.  I could hear her car start, and then its prrrrrrr as it trailed away into the night.  It had just gotten dark outside.
    Heather had decided to leave me.  It made sense that she’d come over and then leave the way she did, she want to be my girlfriend anymore.  We had the best relationship either of us had ever been in before, or probably ever would.  She meant everything to me, and I had meant the same.  We loved each other.  She was the most beautiful person in my life, and I didn’t want to lose her after watching a basketball game.  If there was any explanation in the world as to why she was leaving me, I hadn’t anticipated it in the least. 
    I was in a state of shock.  Heather never let on that she wanted out of our relationship.  Not once had she ever said anything that would move me to think that we were in trouble.  I could see my whole world beginning to cave in around me.  I didn’t even feel like a human being by the time I couldn’t hear her car’s engine anymore.  All of the joy that I had felt by seeing my favorite basketball team win tonight’s game had left me, almost feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of me, and the spirits that I was in had escaped with it.  In my mind I could see LeBron James pointing at me, laughing at what a fool I looked like.  I couldn’t even see straight after Heather laid it on me.  I felt like throwing up.  I couldn’t help but think that a shot of some hard alcohol would seal the deal, and put me in my grave ahead of schedule. 
    I can’t help but think that it was something I’d done.  I loved Heather, she was so perfect.  She had the prettiest face.  Her hair was the best thing about her.  I took such pride in being the love of her life.  Heather was pissed off at me, so much so, that she would end things forever.  Our relationship had gone to Hell.  She’d left me in my parents’ house’s basement, feeling like shit.  There is a chance that she did this for my own good.  There must be something about me that says “Dump me, because it’s for my own good.”  I could never have expected this in my wildest dreams.  In my mind, I have a perfect existence here on Earth, this must be what has lead to my feeling slaughtered by my girlfriend of five years after  she told me that she didn’t want to see me anymore.
    All of a sudden I knew what it was.  Heather had left me for my own good.  I had come so far as a basketball player that even Heather knew that it was time for me to be on my own.  I didn’t need the high school sweetheart of yesteryear, and definitely didn’t need to feel confined to my basement with Heather.  Now I could live with twelve years of basketball experience under my belt and figure it out from here.  From now on I won’t be recognized as the person who’d had the same girlfriend from high school, and instead, as “Eric the Basketball Wizard”.  No one is willing to admit that my five year relationship with my girlfriend had made them sick, but now when they see me, they’ll think better of me because I’ll be being me, the high school basketball star, Eric Parelli, starting forward for the Montclair Lions.  There will be a certain distinction about me that no one else can compete with, because I’ve stuck with a sport that has led me to become a real hometown hero.  Now, instead of being the guy who’d made everyone feel good because he appeared to be in love, I’ll be the guy who is recognized for his talent that developed over the years on the basketball court.
    God bless Heather’s little heart.  She knew that our relationship existed on the basis that I was a committed basketball player, and that for me to grow as a person, and an athlete, she left me.  Whatever it was that had been keeping me in the dark about who I was, no longer exists.  I am willing to wager, that since I started playing basketball at age nine, the whole town has admired me, and that as I got older, I continued to get more and more support as I entered basketball stardom; that’s right, just me, and of course Heather.  Without Heather at my side, I can experience life, and what it has to offer me.  Even Heather knows that I’m a hero.  What a relief all of this is.  Kobe Bryant would be proud of me.
    I’m already beginning to feel better.  The dust has settled, so to speak.  I am beginning to feel like a man.  I can feel my own adulthood becoming less faltering.  My personal life is the least of my concerns.  Maybe Heather and I can still be friends.  I don’t see why not.  Heather and I can still have a friendship that could even lead to us getting married.  Anything is possible when you’re as big of an enthusiast to the sport of basketball, as I am.  Who knows, maybe I could get a job coaching basketball in the NBA.  Maybe they’d let me become commissioner of the entire league.
    I am so happy that basketball has been a part of my life for so many years.  When I watch a game on TV, I think that it affects me in so many ways, so much so, that I am blessed.  Pro basketball is a blessing that we all should be thankful for.  For instance, I couldn’t have been more prepared for a break up than after watching the Lakers defeat Cleveland.  The NBA allows us to examine the balance between good and evil, and help us make distinctions about how we live our lives. 
    Heather is the best listener.  She has listened to me for years, about everything I’ve ever had a thing to say about, or had a problem with.  It’s so important for me to remember her for the good things she has caused to happen in my life.  I will never forget the good times we had when we were together, and I hope that she won’t either. 
    Today, tonight, justice has been served.  The battle between good and evil has come to an end.  I can’t create life, or destroy life.  It’s all up to God, and basketball.