Super Skilled Me

(15)

          It's once again the following day, and I'm back in my house. As I mentioned, we have another game tonight, but I've hardly put any interest in it. I've been dwelling that I'll have to run up and down that court and die of exhaustion. I'd rather lay around the house and watch a good movie while snacking on some Maltesers. It also doesn't help to know, that no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, we'll never escape the wrath of Coach Anton's rage.

          I keep thinking about my parents. As bad as it sounds, considering tonight is another home game, I want the live stream to shut down or not connect properly. If they ask why I'm not playing tonight (considering I'll be coming off the bench), I'll lie again and say I'm injured, so my playing minutes are down.

          Nonetheless, after not hearing from her for weeks, neither of us spending any time together, I finally convinced my girlfriend Dian to come over. I've been wanting to talk about what's been going on lately. She's standing by the sink, washing her hands.

          "So, I was thinking we could go for dinner sometime this week?" I suggest, rounding up my gear for the game tonight.

          "Sounds great," she says in a blank voice, keeping her back to me.

          "Yeah. I wanna take you out to our favourite restaurant, considering we've been a little distant these days. I'll pay, too."

          "Oh, yeah?" she replies, again not looking at me.

          "Yeah. Marcelle's Cafe. It was the first place I ever took you on a date, remember? We had such a great time. I thought it could bring us closer again."

          "That's cool." 

          Ugh...she's just so flat and emotionless.

          "You look nice by the way," I say, complimenting her dress.

          "Thanks."

          Feeling deflated, I want to know what's going on.

          "What's up?" I ask. "You don't seem very happy."

          She pauses, back still turned, and says, "I didn't come here for the small talk."

          "What's that supposed to mean?"

          She yet pauses again, before dramatically turning around and replies, "We're finished, Declan."

          Finished? I think to myself. Like we're done here in the kitchen, and ready to head to the game and watch like she always does?

          "What do you mean finished?" I reply. "As in—"

          "As in I want nothing to do with you anymore," she states, finishing the sentence for me. "In other words, I'm breaking up with you."

          I can't tell if she's joking or not. What about our plans for the future? What about us having kids and living the happy life we envisioned?

          "I don't understand. Where is this coming from?"

          "Where's it coming from?" She huffs. "Maybe because you don't give a shit about anything but food. Or how you have no ambition but to keep stuffing yourself and throwing everything away. I'm sorry I'm no longer interested in someone who's let themselves go."

          "I'm working on it, okay?" I tell her, almost believing my own lies. "I've been researching new diets and plan to cut back. Please, Dian. Don't do this. I can get back to the old me. Besides...when you really love someone, you help them get through hard times, right?"