Baseball Player apologized.

It came to me through a text message, not surprising at all considering we have talked on the phone all of three times. Maybe?

It was Friday night and I was texting Doorman. My phone predictably vibrated and I assumed it was Doorman getting back to me on our random Jew conversation, but I was wrong. I picked my phone off my bed, flipped it open and there was a text from – - – - – Asshole, aka Baseball Player.

What the?

His text lit up my screen with an apology. He said he wasn’t trying to make up for anything, he just knew he was a dick. I nodded in agreement and hesitated. I can be a bitch and give him the same treatment he gave me so many times before and not respond, or I could continue to be the bigger person and accept his apology. I went for the latter. I responded with, “I appreciate that, but what took you so long to realize [that he was being a dick]?” He said something about respecting my wishes (the “don’t ever fucking talk to me again” wishes). I told him he couldn’t very well apologize for something when he didn’t know what he did (he was blacked out when this incident happened). We went back and forth for ten minutes or so and he eventually asked if I would come over in the morning before the game and we could talk about it.

I was reluctant. I mean, if I think about it, this boy has caused me more drama than it’s been worth. I thought back to all the times he bailed with no forewarning. All the times he didn’t respond. All the times we said condescending things to each other. All the times I felt like shit. That time I left a last minute date early because he and I made plans and then he flaked. How that same scenario in slight variation occurred multiple times. And then this whole thing happened. And the fact is, if you took out the sex, we weren’t even friends. Yet one of his text messages insisted, “I can’t lose you as a friend.” I asked him if we ever really were friends. He ignored it and said he was sorry and mentioned again that I should come over. I gave in.

I couldn’t tell my friends, they would give me endless hell for it. I was just going to listen to his apology, not let him stuff my turkey, but it wouldn’t matter, they hate him. The next morning luckily one roommate was at work and the other went home for the weekend, so no need to secretly escape. I parked in his gravel driveway and knocked on the door. He immediately opened it and for a second almost looked intimidated. I couldn’t help but laugh. I followed him to his room, away from the listening ears of his random friends. He complimented me on my badass pirate shirt and I said his room was a mess.

We sat at the edge of his bed and he didn’t say anything for a minute. I fumbled with my purple headscarf and eye patch holding it on (it’s game day, yo, gotta dress as a pirate). I turned to him and said “Look, you can’t keep apologizing when you don’t know what you said, so I’m just going to tell you.” I rolled out the story, every shitty phrase of his temper tantrum. He looked more and more mortified as I went on. When I finished, he just sat there looking shocked and said, “How do I make this up to you?” “Just buy me a lot of drinks next time you see me downtown,” I insisted. “Well, I know one way I can make it up to you…,” he offered. I knew exactly what he meant and instantly said “No, thanks.” “I mean, not now. Just sometime in the future,” he explained. I kept telling him I was good. Finally, I said, “No, look, I’m interested in someone, so I’m good.”

I changed the subject and we talked about school and how he has been getting drunk six days a week. I told him that was cute and responsible. I stood up to leave, turned to him and said, “You know what made me the maddest about the whole situation? The fact that I wasn’t going to be able to use your driveway to park in when I wanted to go to the gym.” He laughed and said, “You know you can park anywhere on this street right? You don’t need my driveway.” “Are you fucking kidding me, I’ve been spending five dollars a week in quarters to use the metered parking.”

We walked back out to his living room, where his friends were setting up the beer pong table to pre-game on before they went and tailgated. They were standing near the door, so I shoved my hands in my pockets and stood awkwardly next to them. I asked silly questions and walked out before I really got answers. I haven’t talked to him since.

It’s almost Halloween, making it almost a year since Baseball Player made his way back into my life. But it’s the bottom of the ninth, my bases are fully loaded and Baseball Player has struck out. (I know nothing about baseball, that analogy is probably wrong!) And when he reaches his celibacy plan date, which is on his birthday (the day after Halloween), I won’t be the one making out with him on his bed with a bunny head on. Long story…

Goodbye Baseball Player.

And as for him wanting to be my friend, I guess we shall see.  I’m not sure if it was the guilt that made him apologize or because he genuinely felt bad and still wanted to be my friend.  He has to prove it to me.