Dear Future Husband

June 4, 2019

Dear my girl,

Sometimes I can be a real dumbass.

I'm kind of screwed for the rest of the lacrosse season because at our last game I got nailed by two different guys on two separate occasions and got myself a nice concussion along with whiplash, so that's always a mood killer. I'm also kind of a dumbass because I could've avoided all of this if I had just listened to Alina.

After the first hit, I wanted to go back out again because I felt okay for the most part, apart from some dizziness. Coach was all about it, but Alina was not. I made the mistake of thinking that she was just being overprotective when really, I should not have been playing even if I didn't know I would've gotten smashed into again.

I blacked out and woke up in a hospital bed with a throbbing headache and my parents sitting at my bedside.

"Motherfucker." I muttered, reaching up to touch my head.

"Oh thank god!" My mom burst into tears as she called the doctors from the hallway.

"How are you feeling?" I heard my dad say, but I didn't answer him, I was too busy looking at the doorway.

Alina was standing there, peeking her head in from the hall. "Oh my god." She muttered, a single year dripping down her cheek.

"Are you going to come say hi or...?" I smiled at her weakly.

She walked slow as if moving too fast might give me a worse headache, which was impossible because goddamn, this shit hurt. "Grant, I-"

She didn't get a chance to finish because the doctors had come in and asked me a hundred different questions about my pain and if I knew my name and who the president was and all this dumb shit. In all honesty they were making my head feel even worse and I just wanted to talk to Alina.

Finally they left me alone, but it was another struggle to get my annoying parents to go away. I just wanted some fucking peace, was that too much to ask for?

At last, Alina and I were alone and she burst into tears. "I-I thought you were paralyzed! I d-didn't think you were going to make it! Why w-would you do this to me?"

I opened my arms and she crumbled into them, soaking my hospital gown. "I'm fine," I laughed. "You didn't have anything to worry about."

She yanked herself away from me and looked down with a rage in her eyes I had never seen before and hope to never see again. "You're not fine! I had so much crap to worry about! You got really hurt, Grant!"

I took a deep breath. "I know, I'm sorry, but I'm going to recover, I'm going to be okay."

She sat down on the edge of my bed, wiping her hands across her eyes. "Not in time for the rest of the season."

"What?! What do you mean?" I sat up too quickly which made my head spin, causing me to have to lay down again.

"The doctor said you're going to need a few weeks to recover, you got hit pretty bad, both times."

She had to explain to me what had happened since I had forgotten everything after the first quarter. Apparently I went against her advice and went back into the game after getting nailed the first time and she was pretty pissed about it. It didn't surprise me, I hated looking like a pussy. I guess I could've sacrificed my pride if it meant I got to play out the rest of the season.

"This is fucking ridiculous," I said with exasperation. "It's only a concussion and a little whiplash, two weeks?"

She nodded. "Maybe if you weren't so stubborn you could've avoided this."

Both of our pissy moods were not mixing well and just heightened the other, making for a very heated argument. "What do you want me to say, Alina? 'You told me so'? Don't you realize that I already feel shitty enough as it is? I really don't need you making this any worse."

She scoffed. "I'm so sorry my being here is making this worse. Last I checked, I was trying to help you not screw up your head worse than it already was, but you just ignored me!"

"Stop making this about you!" I yelled, my head feeling like a pressure bomb. "What do you want me to do? Apologize for not listening and getting a concussion? Because last I checked that is on me, okay? You're my girlfriend, not my wife, not my mom, and sure as hell not me. So please, just shut up and let me deal with this." The moment the words came from my mouth I wish I could suck them back in. That whole day I had a lot of regrets, but those words are the greatest ones. I want so badly to blame it on the concussion, or the stress of everything, but nothing else I could say would make that better.

She just looked at me, her face unmoving despite the occasional sniffle from her previous crying.

"Alina-"

"No," She said quietly, looking down at her hands. "Don't apologize. You're right. This is your battle. I should just let you deal with this." She got up from my bed and turned towards the door. I reached out for her but she was already too far gone.

She stopped in the doorway and turned to face me, fresh tears wobbling in her eyes preparing to fall. "I hope you feel better." She said before leaving.

I think what scared me the most about that was how calm she was after I told her to shut up. She didn't scream at me, she didn't get up and storm out, she didn't even have a tone in her voice. She was just silent and concise and just left. That's what scared me the most, the fact that she didn't fight. She could tell she wasn't wanted and she left, just like that. But she was wrong, she was wanted. She was all I wanted. I wanted her to stay so bad. All it took was one sentence to drive her away, all it takes is one sentence for everything to come undone and that scares the shit out of me.

Although it's hard to admit, Alina did everything right, she was right and I was so incredibly wrong. I was wrong about going back into the game and driving her away and even about the goddamn recovery time for the concussion because goddamn this shit is fucking me up and I won't be ready to play again in a few days. She cared, I know that, I just wasn't used to it. I didn't know how to take advice or keep people around that I liked a lot. I just wanted to make things right again somehow, as hard as it was I had to man up and apologize.

I'm just hoping it's not too late.

-Grant