Parting of ways

This week has been a series of jambles and ironies. I came face with the harsh reality that sometimes life can unearth you.

Tennis is my passion and my job. Tennis is my life. I joined this group to meet people not involved in tennis and I’m glad I did. If I stuck solely to tennis I think I would burst. This week I learned that amateur tennis is about betrayal, cruelty, and infidelity.

I had assisted her in many ways. I scouted, researched, and recruited. I even hacked into websites to access information and in return she decided to bench me. I burn with rage and fury. She opted to exclude me from playing despite the fact that had already clinched a playoff berth. I voyaged to practices in a blizzard because she was desperate. I take flack for being her friend. I was willing to butter up a guy I had no interest in for the sole purpose of snaring him for the team. She neglected me and humiliated me. I guess favors are not always reciprocated. She shut me out of playing the championships even though she knows that this event is something I live for. I think our “relationship” is over. It is a very hard fact for me to grasp. She meant the world to me. She made me feel worthy and valued when on one else did. My ability to gather information was invaluable to her. She was my confidante and she encouraged me to write. And just to clarify she is just my tennis captain. I’m so disheartened and saddened by her actions. I wish things were different but they aren’t. Should I pay a tribute to her or deliver a eulogy of us. I guess now I can tell her story in print and not worry about her feelings if her life is broadcasted. I guess the other reason I have been simmering with rage for her is that she belittled him. She knew I harbored tender feelings for him yet she found it appropriate to bemoan him. He wants to just vanish. I want to writer her a letter detailing my feelings. But I know she will respond by staging a relentless personal attack on me. She has done it before. And I don’t need hear it I contemplated engineering a coup against her. But I’m afraid no one would follow me and everyone would remained glued to her. They are all so brainwashed. My stomach flip flops when I read emails attesting that she is such a great captain. I sometimes ponder whether I should enlighten the person with the truth.

The truth is that this is a case of I told you so. I should have known that one day she would scathe me. I had been warned about her. She is the like the guy who is a heartbreaker. The guy who is a womanizer. That seems so tempting and so alluring Yet everyone tells you is a fuck up. But at the moment you can’t discern that fact. I don’t know whether I should destroy the make up that she gave me burn the many gifts that she bestowed on me. Somehow the gifts are symbolic of a betch I need to let go of even though I dread letting go.