February 2017. Big Country and I were getting along swimmingly. We spent many evenings cooking dinner together, watching hockey and sitting around his outdoor fire pit drinking, shooting the shit. He seemed like he was genuinely into me. I was liking him more and more despite the obvious fact that he didn’t want a relationship.
I met his best friend Sean and his wife Mel one evening. The four of us had dinner and drinks at the house and then headed into town to play pool and have more drinks. It was snowing like crazy, but we didn’t care. We took a cab to some random bar. The guys played pool while me and Mel drank and got to know each other. She and Sean were super nice. While we were sitting there my stomach was churning, the pain moved in waves. I prayed that whatever was going to happen would hold off until we got back to the house.
After a couple of hours we decided to cab back. The cab company was located behind the bar so we walked in and asked the dispatch lady to order us a cab. She said it would be a 20 minute wait.
While we waited, my tummy was on the fritz. I started to sweat and begged my colon to wait until we got to the house; not a fucking chance. I farted up a storm (silent, but deadly. Luckily I was in a winter parka so everything stayed within the confines of my jacket) I had no choice but to search for a washroom. They had one and it was spotless, thank goodness. I relieved myself and felt like a million bucks after, but unbeknownst to me, Big Country had to pee. As I joined the others at the front he yelled out “hey Poppy, did you poops in here?! You know, the sign above the toilet says no number 2’s”! I looked at the dispatch lady and then to Sean and Mel. I was mortified, but then owned it. I yelled back “Yuuuuup!” and then proceeded to laugh my fucking ass off (with everyone else).
Ugh, that moment made me like him even more. Calling a girl out in front of his best friends after she takes a big shit isn’t something that most of us could appreciate, but it was right up my alley; so fucking funny.
After that night, I was excited. I met his bestie, we were spending more time together and we had our spa trip coming up. He was just as invested as I was, right?
The Spa Nordik trip was during the third week of the month. It was your typical February – cold, dark, gray. We were both excited for this mini getaway. We left that Wednesday morning after dropping his dog off at the kennel. We took our time getting down there since we weren’t actually going to the spa until the next day. We made it in great time without traffic or weather impediments.
We checked into the hotel around 4pm and hung out in the room having drinks. Since he had done this trip before, he knew where he wanted to take me for dinner.
We got ready and jumped in a cab that evening. I remember feeling tipsy and so excited for dinner. The restaurant was a big, old mansion. It was busy and the menu had exactly what I wanted – steak and lobster. We enjoyed dinner with a few cocktails and a bottle of wine. It was great!
We cabbed it back to the hotel afterwards. I went straight to the washroom and slipped on a little somethin’ somethin’ from Victoria’s Secret. He was laying in bed with the TV on so I went to the foot of the bed and started slowly crawling on top of him from his feet to his face. He wasn’t having any of it. He pushed me off and said I needed to read the situation better; he was too full and didn’t want to be touched.
Now, I could appreciate that; we’ve all been there – too full to do a damn thing – but fuck, he could’ve been less of an asshole about it.
I jumped off, put on my pj’s and went to sleep.
We woke up early the next morning, ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant and headed to the spa. I was fucking stoked! We checked in, changed into our bathrobes and flip flops, and headed to our couple’s massage. The place was huge and busy since it was reading week for a lot of schools. We laid side by side in silence while the ladies rubbed us down. It was peaceful and tranquil. When we were finished, we headed down to the saunas and pools. We spent a few minutes in each one, trying out the different temperatures. It was invigorating.
There was snow on the ground, but it wasn’t freezing out – just perfect for a winter outdoor spa day.
We had lunch on site, ordered cocktails and people-watched; everyone in their robes, smiles all around. We finished the afternoon by enjoying the remaining pools and saunas we missed before lunch. It was great. I was extremely relaxed by the time we left.
We chilled in the hotel until dinner time.
We walked to a nearby pub. We had an awesome time, talking and drinking. He, again, brought up the fact that he loved where we were, that we weren’t too serious and having a good time. Ugh, I disliked that so much.
I wanted him to want me more.
I didn’t bother with the sexy get-up that night, but we had sex. It was fine. It always bothered me that we never kissed.
We checked out that morning, headed to Costco, stocked up on cheap booze and headed home. When we got back to his place, he said he needed “Big Country” time. He said that since we had spent so much time together over the last few days, he needed to decompress and be alone. He spent the rest of the afternoon in his garage tinkering with shit.
March to June 2017. The more time I spent with him, the harder I fell. I couldn’t stop myself. Even though he kept his distance; only messaged me every 3 or 4 days; and reminded me that he didn’t want anything serious, that he was doing his own thing; that he was “all about himself”; I wanted to be with him. He admitted to being selfish and childish; and that he didn’t know what he really wanted.
Red Flag – See paragraph above.
Despite not being officially together, I wanted him to meet some of my people. I was shocked that he agreed. Cheese and her hubby met him once. We had dinner at Fionn MacCool’s and then went for drinks at Buffalo Wild Wing. The Welder drove so he stayed sober while I drank with Cheese. We had a good time. The only thing that irritated me was the fact that his phone was lit up almost the entire time. At one point I asked him to put the fucking thing on silent or at least answer; he said it was his “neighbour Sharon”.
Why did she need to speak with him so urgently?
Shortly after meeting Cheese, Miss D came out to the country with her sister to meet Big Country. He built a fire, cooked up some delish food and drank. Sean and Mel came out too. It was a beautiful spring day and Miss D fell in love with him. We had such a good time.
My reservations and doubts constantly nagged at me; but I tried to convince myself that since I had already experienced two years of unsuccessful dating, this had to get better; he liked me, he was investing in me (sort of); He and I could be something some day. I just needed to be patient; he would change his mind about not wanting a relationship once I proved how wonderful I was.
Self-destructive and insecure patterns. On repeat.
I had numerous conversations with my girls. Lady G, J-Cat, Kol and T got the brunt of it since I worked with them. They were of logical, sound minds. I was obsessed with the “neighbour Sharon” since she was a looming presence in his life. They assured me that there was probably nothing to be worried about. They tried to be positive and told me to hang in there if that’s what I wanted. They didn’t like how he was making me feel. I could tell in their reactions and facial expressions when I talked about him. They were supportive, but knew I could do better. They gave me great motherly/sisterly advice that I chose to put on the back burner because I wanted to put all of my energy into making it work.
Red Flag – I invested so much of my time and effort with little to no reciprocation.
Miss D and Cheese were also very supportive. Since they both met and liked him, they were all for team Poppy/Big Country. They had high hopes for us. I must’ve called them both two or three times a day to help me decipher what was going on, to help me figure out if it was worth me sticking around. Again, they reminded me; at the end of the day, it was my life and I was going to do what I wanted. They said I needed to be patient; if I was going to invest in this man, I had to wait without any guarantees that we would end up in a relationship. I am an impatient motherfucker. I want what I want when I want it.
Anyway, aspects of his lifestyle quickly annoyed the shit out of me. For example, random people would visit at all hours of the day and night, especially if they noticed that he (or we) were hanging out in his garage or around the fire. Yes, hanging out in his garage smoking, drinking and talking while he tinkered with his ATV, snowmobile, or whatever the fuck toy he had, became a regular thing. This eventually bored me and I opted to stay in the house and watch TV or cook.
Some of these visitors came in tractors, but a majority came in pick up trucks, usually with beers in tow. If I was outside, Big Country would introduce me, but I could tell he didn’t really want to. I was his “lady friend, Poppy” (what was I, an escort?).
One visitor in particular was a fucking gem. When I arrived at Big Country’s house, the two of them were sitting in the garage drinking a beer. When I came out of my car, he complimented me the way a guy hollers at a stripper in perv’s row. Big Country stayed silent. I thanked him awkwardly and changed the subject. This guy was a farmer from down the road, his family owned over 100 acres. I had nothing to contribute to this conversation. They talked fishing, farming and marijuana growing.
The thing that took me aback was when he started talking about how bok choy was an up and coming vegetable being farmed in Ontario. I thought that was interesting; I grew up eating it and had no idea it was becoming a popular farming product. I was able to get into this conversation a little, and then he said “yeah, my chinks down the road will be hooking me up with some product. They own the Mandarin in Oshawa. We’re becoming great friends.”
Me = Speechless. Shocked. Disgusted.
I looked at Big Country, who gave me a look of embarrassment. He said nothing.
I was frozen. I was in disbelief and didn’t say a word. He continued chatting and after a few minutes, got up, mentioned how Big Country and I were a good looking couple who probably fucked really well, jumped into his tractor and headed down the driveway.
I don’t think my jaw ever left the floor. Big Country explained that this guy was “just a neighbour, not a friend”. I had so many questions. He told me that he would never bring me around those types of people and they were a dime a dozen around that area.
Now, I am not generalizing those who live in the country to be that fucking ignorant; but let me tell you, he being one of the first few I met, left me with a taste of judgement and fucking disdain.
Another gem was his “neighbour Sharon” who messaged and visited him frequently, usually early in the morning (literally the crack of dawn). I never saw her because I was always in bed or in the house when she’d briefly visit. He explained that she was not a friend, but just his neighbour, an acquaintance, who was “crazy” and never slept.
The first time I met her was unexpected. Big Country was in the shower, which is on the first floor of his house, right off of the kitchen. I was down the hall watching TV. I heard the side entrance open (which goes straight into the kitchen) and a girl holler “helloooooo!!!” Big Country hollered back from the washroom. I went into the kitchen to see what was going on. There she was, the fucking neighbour Sharon, dressed in a camo snowsuit and a Tim Horton’s toque. I sat across from her at the kitchen table and lit up a smoke. She proceeded to talk about her cat, showed me pictures, asked Big Country why he didn’t answer any of the 25 messages she sent him the night before and asked me why my car wasn’t in the driveway (it was in the garage). Who the fuck was this woman?
Big Country came out of the washroom and sat completely away from us. I chain smoked while they chatted (they only spoke to each other). I tried putting in my two cents, but that was useless.
She seemed harmless and extremely skittish. Her energy was chaotic.
After she left, I asked him flat out what her deal was. He said she was crazy and she just liked dropping by. I told him that the 5am visits were annoying and it bothered me that she constantly messaged and called him; but he didn’t have much of a response. It was just always going to be that way.
Reminder: He was not my boyfriend.
I met a slew of “neighbours”. I never had the opportunity to get to know any of them, which I wasn’t sad about. He distanced himself from these people by calling them neighbours and not friends. He even went as far as to say that they weren’t his type of people; that he disapproved of them. He was full of shit. He hunted, fished and helped his neighbours on their farms all of the fucking time. He explained that his “actual” friends were his high school crew.
I tried not to judge, but these people made it really hard. I always felt like an outsider.
Although I wasn’t a fan of the people around him, I loved other aspects – watching hockey, going for long rides on his snowmobile and ATV; having quiet nights sitting around the fire pit drinking wine; fishing on his boat and shooting targets with his hunting rifles.
I actually convinced myself that I could live this outdoorsy life, be a country girl, live on quiet acreage, sit around a fire pit each night. Miss D and quite a few people couldn’t believe it. They saw me as a city girl.
I met his parents and the rest of his immediate family Easter weekend. It was lovely. They seemed genuinely nice. I thought to myself, this has to be the real deal, why did he introduce me to his family otherwise?
Nope. He became sketchy.
As the spring moved along, we weren’t spending as much time together. He would message me sporadically (every 3-5 days, unless I initated). There were times when we didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks.
I started noticing things. Things that made my gut churn in insecurity and paranoia.
Sketchy Item #1 – He was all of a sudden “always busy”; his property needed lots of tending, apparently all day every day.
Who was he fucking other then me?
Run Poppy, run.
Sketchy Item #2 – There were times when I would go to his house and there were empty wine bottles and dirty wine glasses on his counter. When I asked him about it, he explained that some of his “couple” friends came by for drinks and apps. This occurred several times and this was always his explanation. I wished he invited me.
I called Miss D frantically. Was he ashamed of me? Were the people he was having these drinks with unsavoury? Was he hanging out with his ignorant neighbours and was saving me from their company? Who else was he fucking?
She kept me from jumping off the ledge. She tried to make it logical – tried to make me feel better; the thing is, I knew better. My gut told me he was putting his dick in someone else and that I was far too invested and should get the fuck out.
Run Poppy, run.
Sketchy Item #3 – He was protective of his phone. When we first started seeing each other, he barely ever had his phone on him. Now, he was constantly on his phone. My suspicions were heightened when, one day; I grabbed my phone, sat next to him, and he snatched it out of my hand asking “why the fuck do you have my phone”. I was taken aback. When he looked at it and realized it was mine, he apologized and gave it back to me. I asked him what the fuck was on his phone that he would feel the need to grab it from me. He just shrugged.
Again, who the fuck was he fucking other than me?
Run Poppy, run.
Alas, I kept up my hopes instead. My trip to California was in a few weeks. I hoped that the separation would do him good; that he would miss me and realize that he wanted to be with me.
Silly Poppy…
