[WAITLISTED] you were never mine // matthew boldy

10

"She fuckin' hates me. Trust, she fuckin' hates me. I tried too hard and she tore my feelings like I had none, and ripped them away." — Puddle of Mudd

It has been a rough week or so for not only me, but for the entire Minnesota Wild roster.

Next week is the all-star break, so while Kirill Kaprizov and Cam Talbot are in Las Vegas for the all-star game and skills challenges, the team was thinking about going to Cancún, Mexico for a quick vacation.

Dean Evason called me into his office after today's morning practice, which was full of accurate shooting for the wingers and defensemen, and work for the goaltenders because they've let in a total of fifteen goals over three games.

"You needed me?" I asked Dean as I opened the door after I had knocked and he allowed me to enter.

He nodded his head, sipping on his cup of coffee in a Wild mug. "Yeah, take a seat, Matt."

I quietly shut the door, nodding my head, and situated myself in the leather chair across Dean's desk to his right.

I rested my hands in my lap and waited patiently for Dean to stop writing whatever he was writing on his sheet of yellow notepad paper. He ripped the paper and handed it to me.

"Your stats have dropped significantly since the game after we played the Carolina Hurricanes. You're playing on the third line, and you're spending way too much time in the penalty box. Eight penalties against Florida and Ottawa, six of them being either roughing or cross-checking. You have scored nothing, nor have you assisted in any shots. Whatever happened to us when we first brought you from Iowa?" he explained, pointing at every note he had written on the yellow sheet of paper.

I stared at the piece of paper. I was dumbfounded. I never realized how much I was hurting the team because I let my feelings of recovering from being broken up take over my mind, and unfortunately taking over my mentality on the ice.

I sighed. "I know exactly why, Coach." I firmly said, and it's not like my relationship with Peyton mattered anymore. She was gone. What's the worst that can happen, she loses her job?

Dean raised an eyebrow, leaning back on his chair and sipping his coffee again. "What's that?" he said.

My eyes darted to the ground, then back to meet his glaring blue eyes.

"I fucked up. I betrayed someone who I loved so much, and I didn't respect her wish to keep our relationship private. She's probably going to lose her job because of me, and when she screamed at me that we were gonna break up, I felt my heart stop. She kicked me out of her apartment, and I've let my grief and guilt overtake my emotions and mentality on the ice. I'm sorry I have let the team down, Dean. I really am," I responded, and Dean looked at me like he's heard this story before.

He sighed, setting his coffee mug on a coaster with his wife and kids on it. "Matthew, you have no idea how many times I've heard this story about players' performances dropping because of heartbreak. It happened all the damn time when I was coaching in Milwaukee and being an assistant coach here in Minnesota," he said, interlocking his fingers and resting his hands on the desk. "All I can say is that I know heartbreak hurts. It really can get to the best of you, and unfortunately in the worst ways possible. Have you spoken to your ex-girlfriend or fiancée or wife, whatever she was to you since you two broke up?"