July 2017. I left for San Diego to see my cousin Kunk mid-month. The Welder and I spent a few days together a week before I left. We went through the motions; sat by the fire, cooked dinner, watched TV, etc. I think I stayed one day too long. It’s like he had a threshold for the amount of time he could handle spending with me; four days was the longest and he was so over it by the last day.
My visit to San Diego was absolutely perfect (as it always was). I spent 3 weeks soaking up the sun, drinking wine, shopping, eating delicious food, and hanging out with my godson. I love California. Kunk and her husband are fantastic hosts. Her ride or die’s were also so welcoming when I’d visit. I was, however, distracted by thoughts of Big Country. Did he miss me? Was my absence tearing him apart? Was he excited for my return? Was he having a free-for-all, fucking someone else?
He literally messaged me once while I was away. His lack of communication did not stop me from phoning him. We spoke a couple of times while I was poolside.
Uh-huh.
During one of those calls he invited me to his cousins’ wedding in August. I couldn’t deny it, despite all of the insurmountable bullshit, this teeny tiny gesture gave me so much excitement and hope.
Naive little Poppy.
Big Country’s best friend’s wife, Mel, reached out to me and asked if I wanted to help her plan Big Country’s birthday party upon my return. She spoke with him and said he was happy to host it at his place. Of course I wanted to help! This was my opportunity to meet his “real” friends.
Kunk was always my stern, no-bullshit sister. The last time I visited her (three years prior) I was hanging out with Burger Boy, who she was not a fan of; and now she was hearing about the disappointing Big Country.
She reiterated how I deserved so much better and I had to stop settling for the unworthy, sub-par, selfish, cheap-ass, narcissistic, unmotivated, disingenuous men-children I had been dating. She never said this shit with a smile either; I swear she wanted to punch me (in the most loving way). She was (and still is) my rock. Visiting with her and the family always made me feel recharged. There was something about that California sun.
August 2017. When I arrived home, the first thing I did was message Big Country. In typical fashion, he didn’t respond until late the following day. There wasn’t much excitement. He and I never spoke two consecutive days in a row…God forbid. He maintained his distance from me very well.
Me and Vic’s BBQ, a few days after I came home, was a drunken, fabulous time as always. There was a ton of food, booze and cigarettes. I was feeling great and Big Country was coming! When he showed up, I introduced him as “my friend” even though everyone knew the real story; that I saw him as far more than that.
He gave me a birthday card with LCBO and Starbucks gift cards. It was a pleasant surprise…I guess. I mean, I couldn’t expect much more from my non-boyfriend.
He only stayed for a couple of hours. He said he had a lot of wood to cut up early the next day with his buddy Ben. I was annoyed, but again, reminded myself that he wasn’t my boyfriend and I was not a priority. I walked him to his truck, we fucked for a hot minute in the front seat and parted ways.
Why was I letting this happen?
The night went on without him. My brother and some friends were curious. Why didn’t he stay? What was his deal? Miss D and Cheese were happy to see him. Above everyone else, they were the most hopeful.
People were at the house until well into the next morning. I called it quits around 5am, after cleaning up a majority of the mess. I didn’t sleep well, so after a couple hours I got up and continued cleaning. A few people ended up coming back to the house that afternoon. We ordered food and drank more. Big Country messaged. He wanted me to visit; so I hung out for a bit before heading over later that afternoon. I was hungover on the drive. I really should’ve stayed home.
When I arrived, I noticed that there weren’t any wood piles from a busy morning. I knew he didn’t actually have shit to do; he just didn’t want to stay with me the previous night.
Anyway, we had a lovely evening. He was in good spirits. It seemed like he had missed me.
I didn’t see him again until his birthday BBQ a week later.
That was a hectic day. I had to lug the cupcakes and peach crisp to his house along with a cooler, napkins, plates, cups, lawn chair, booze and my clothes for the weekend. He set up a giant slip and slide on the hill in his yard with barrels of hay at the bottom for cushioning. He had tables set up, the garage was spotless and there was enough firewood to last for days.
Sean and Mel were the first to arrive around 2pm and people trickled in shortly after. Some came with tents and others with their camper trailers. They set up all over his property. It was going to be a long drunken night.
I was excited to finally meet his “real friends”; the ones from high school who remained a tight-knit group.
Miss D’s sister showed up and so did Vic. I was glad to see some familiar faces.
It was your typical summer backyard party. People were drinking, eating, smoking, chatting, sitting around the fire and sliding down the giant slip n’ slide while music blared over the speakers. His friends seemed like a good crowd; a few girls in particular were super chill. The fire roared the entire time. People were scattered all over the property. I didn’t see much of Big Country. Unless I went to find him, I didn’t see him.
I could feel that I really wasn’t anyone special to him. Luckily I was drunk and my annoyance was temporarily numb.
As the night went on, fireworks were lit and people started playing on the 4-wheelers. The “neighbour Sharon” showed up. She mentioned to me that she brought Big Country treats and the butter tarts in the package were for me because she always ate the baked goods I made for him. That was nice. I didn’t talk to her at all other than that.
One of the drunk idiots ran over his own dog with the 4-wheeler. Vic was luckily sober so, once they found a 24-hour emergency vet, a group of them went off. They were gone for a couple of hours. They left the dog there; he needed surgery.
I went to bed around 4am. After drinking for almost 10 hours, I was drunk and bored.
I spent most of the morning tossing and turning. Big Country came to bed some time after 6am. I went downstairs shortly after to survey the damage. There was so much food leftover. We sent most of it home with Sean and Mel.
Miss D’s sister and Vic “slept” in Big Country’s trailer. I knew the two of them would hook up under the right circumstances.
When all was said and done and everyone left, Big Country and I spent the day on the couch. He was happy with the turnout and thanked me for cleaning up. He was also excited about the birthday gift I gave him – two tickets to see the Hamilton Tiger Cats, his favourite football team. It was a lovely hungover day. He mentioned that we should go camping in October. I was all for it! I wanted to devour any time of his that I could get.
I even invited him to Stuart’s wedding on Labour Day weekend. It was a long shot, but it never hurt to ask. He of course, declined. Miss D ended up being my date; hands down, the best choice.
As doubtful as I felt most of the time about Big Country, I still so badly wanted him to make me his girl. I was willing to settle, knowing he wasn’t giving me what I wanted or deserved. I continued to poorly convince myself that he could change. I always enjoyed our time together and made the best out of each situation, but I tended to feel like shit afterwards. Internalizing my feelings took its toll.
September 2017. We attended his cousin’s wedding. We met at his parent’s house first and went together in their car. It was a typical church wedding; boring, pretty and generic. Big Country didn’t use a title to introduce me to his family; it was “this is Poppy”. I shuttered with disappointment each time.
Following the ceremony we went to his aunt’s house where there was a delicious spread and lots of wine and beer. We had a few hours to kill before the reception so we got nice and tipsy. The reception was fun. We drank and danced the night away.
In my drunken haze, while we slow danced, I felt like I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him. As appalling as that sounds, I felt it (albeit intoxicated). I refrained from saying it, but it was a close call.
When we jumped in the car to head back to his parent’s place I felt queasy. I rarely puke when I’m drunk, but in that moment, I knew it was going to happen. I laid my head on Big Country’s shoulder, opened the window and prayed that I lasted until we got back to the house.
As soon as his dad pulled in, I jumped out of my seat, left my shoes in the driveway and ran to a corner of the lawn. Big Country stood there while I dry heaved. His mom yelled out, “put your fingers down your throat dear” in such a motherly, sweet tone. I did as I was told. I puked everywhere. When we got into the house she gave me some gravol and I went straight to bed. I was supremely hungover the next day and his parents hosted brunch for everyone and anyone who was up for it from the wedding. I was pretty much parked in one chair on the deck. The food was really good and the sunshine helped, but I was in rough shape.
Although we weren’t spending a lot of time together and he still didn’t talk to me much during the week, when we did hang out, he had a way of convincing me that there was a potential future for us.
He dangled the carrot well.
At one point he shocked the shit out of me. He started talking about buying a cottage/property somewhere together one day. This was a pleasant surprise. He talked about how much he cared for me and how great of a woman I was. I was ecstatic; my patience was worth it. I totally rolled with it. We talked about having a property on the water somewhere in or near cottage country; we talked about how life could be and what the possible logistics (with work) might entail if we did find a place. How refreshing, I thought!
The Tiger Cats game was later that month. We stayed in Hamilton for two nights. I had never been to a CFL game before. We had a great time. He gushed about how much fun he had with me and how he had never been with someone like me before. He even admitted that he wasn’t seeing or fucking anyone else. It seemed genuine…at the time.
I decided to express my love for him (stop shaking your head). This was the time.
Not only did he not reciprocate, he said that it couldn’t really be genuine since I had had a few drinks. I was NOT intoxicated. I couldn’t believe I had to defend myself after professing my love. I felt like a fucking moron.
Run Poppy. Run.
Side Note: I never told him I loved him again. To be honest, I don’t think I was ever truly in love with him, but loved the idea of him that I created in my head. I had lost myself.
October 2017. I spent Thanksgiving with Big Country at his brother’s house. It was uneventful but lovely.
By this point I was grasping at anything he gave me. I felt that since he had invited me to family events, introduced me to his good friends and told his boys at work about us, we had to be headed towards a real relationship. Right?! Was I delusional?
Don’t answer that.
Between it all, I was still confiding in my girls. They must’ve been exhausted listening to me day in and day out about this toxic “non-relationship”. Lady G and J-Cat still had their reservations but remained supportive. Miss D and Cheese were still hopeful and maintained a “glass half full” mentality. I must say, the patience and love these beautiful assholes had for me during this unhealthy time of my life was a lifesaver.
Although I told him I loved him, I never expressed the other feelings I experienced (which is probably why we never fought. I never spoke my true mind). Instead, I internalized the pain and vented my doubts, insecurities and issues to my girls.
He always made it clear that he wasn’t interested in anything serious, he cared for me; but was in no rush for a relationship and he was selfish (RED FLAG, RED FLAG, RED FLAG). I tried to just enjoy the moment and not make this into something that it obviously wasn’t.
I lied to myself. I really wanted a relationship. I really wanted him.
Ugh, poor little Poppy…
Anyway, our camping trip was the weekend after Thanksgiving. I headed to his place on Thursday so we could pack everything up. The dog was coming with us too. He cleaned out his trailer and showed me how much work he had been doing to prep for this trip. We were both excited. We left early Friday morning. We camped at Balsam Lake. The leaves were turning and it was so beautiful. Once he had the trailer set up we made a fire and cooked up some hot dogs. It was overcast and damp out. It was calling for rain the entire weekend, but we didn’t care. We made drinks and took the dog for a walk.
We met a group who were really into the dog so we sat with them for a while and decided that we’d hang out with them that night after dinner.
It was a good night. We got drunk with the other campers, sat around the fire and headed back to our camp around 1am. We drunkenly cooked KD and went to bed. It rained all night. The dog was fucking fussy. He howled when he was outside and then scratched at the door when he was inside. He was muddy and wet. Big Country was losing his mind. We barely got any sleep.
Early the next morning, I grabbed an umbrella and took the dog for a walk while Big Country tried to get some sleep. It was quiet. No one was up yet. By the time I got back, Big Country was up and ready to make some breakfast. Everything was damp. Even though we were in the trailer, the dog brought in a hot mess.
After breakfast we made some cocktails, grabbed some fishing gear and took a walk. We walked and walked and walked. Our main intention was to tire out the dog so that he would sleep that night. We spent very little time at the site other than to cook and refill our drinks.
We spent our second (and last) night at the other campsite again. Same old, same old. The dog slept like a baby…until 5am and then it was back and forth; inside then outside. He howled incessantly. Around 7am Big Country was so fed up that he decided we pack up and leave instead of hanging out until noon.
I didn’t see him again for another few weeks after camping. He didn’t reach out to me and when I messaged or called him, I barely got a response. Still, I hung on for dear life. (Red Fucking Flag)
Run Poppy. Run.
November 2017. Uneventful. I barely saw him. I bought his Christmas gift early; two tickets to see the World Juniors outdoor game in Buffalo in December. I told him to keep the four days after Christmas open. He was excited.
December 2017. We were invited to his friends’ Christmas party. Big Country was playing hockey but left his key under the mat so I could get to his place early. I noticed a woman’s scarf in his coat closet when I hung up my jacket…that wasn’t there the other day. I also noticed lube on the shelf in his hutch in the kitchen. We hadn’t fucked in the kitchen since the summer and the last time we used that lube was in his bedroom. I investigated further. I checked the top drawer of his dresser where he kept his condoms, lube, etc. Not only were there random bottles of lube (used) that I’d never seen before, but the brand new box of condoms we just opened was almost empty.
Newsflash – we were barely having sex and we only used one type of lube.
My heart was pounding. I immediately called Miss D and then Cheese. They both tried to calm me down, but I was losing my mind. Miss D said I shouldn’t have counted the condoms; that there must be a reasonable explanation. I was pacing his entire house as I spoke to them. I eventually calmed down, finished getting ready and waited for him to come home.
I know, he wasn’t my boyfriend and he could fuck whoever he wanted, but goddamnit, he was always telling me that he wasn’t fucking anyone else!
Anyway, when he came home, I told him I was packing for the party (we were staying at his parents’ place that night) and was wondering what happened to the almost full pack of condoms we had. He explained that a buddy of his was over and asked him for some (insert all expletives here). Fucking liar! I didn’t bother asking about the lube.
Run Poppy. Fucking Run.
I left it alone, he got ready and off we went. The party was fun times. I was hyper-focused on Christmas coming up a few days later, so the condom thing took a backseat.
Big Country and I spent the first part of Christmas eve at Miss D’s. We drank champagne, ate some appetizers and took pictures by the tree. It was great. Later that day we went over to his parent’s house for dinner and presents. It was a good night, except he was in a hurry to leave because of “the dog”. He dropped me off at home because he didn’t want me to stay that night. He said that Christmas morning was a big deal and he wasn’t ready for me to be a part of that aspect of his life. I felt defeated and deflated.
He ended up spending Christmas day dinner with my family. We went over to my aunt’s where the food was delicious, we sang karaoke and drank a lot of whisky. My aunts loved him. My feelings of defeat from the night before dissipated since we had such a good time.
The World Juniors game was a few days later. We drove my car and stopped off at the liquor store once we got into Buffalo. The first night there we had a chill night at a pub and had drinks. The next day we got up early, packed our booze, put on our snow pants and Team Canada gear and took an Uber to New Era Field . We got there around 2pm. The game didn’t start until 7. We tailgated with a bunch of other Canadians we befriended in the parking lot. It was a sunny afternoon; but by the time we headed into the stadium around 5:30, the snow started falling. The lineup was long and it was cold out, but we were excited. Big Country hid a mickey of Jameson in his boot. Once we were in we grabbed a couple of hot dogs, some sprite for the JMO and grabbed our seats. We were at centre ice but quite far back. It snowed the entire time. It was that fluffy, pretty snow; the kind of snowfall you want Christmas morning.
Since it was snowing hard, the game was a bit of a shit show. The puck was bouncing all over the place. They had to Zamboni the ice a few times. Team Canada lost, but still, it was fun. We grabbed an Uber back to the hotel afterwards. We were drunk but not ready for bedtime. There was an outdoor fireplace at our hotel, so we stayed bundled and sat in front of the fire drinking.
The drive home the next day was snowy, but fine. He was on his phone almost the entire drive. I asked him who he was talking to and he got defensive and said “don’t worry about it, who are you, the phone police?”
Okay then.
New Year’s Eve 2017. We went over to his best friend’s place – Ben and Kay. They were a great couple. We had hung out with them a few times. Kay was awesome.
Anyway, before leaving for their place, Big Country continuously reminded me that he had ice fishing the next day and he had to get up early. Once we arrived, he asked me to call cab companies to book a cab. I told him that no fucking cab company in the middle of nowhere on New Year’s eve was going to reserve a cab for us. Idiot.
It was freezing out; but we were bundled up. We stood around the giant bonfire in their backyard and drank. Just before midnight we headed into the house for snacks and the countdown. We had champagne at midnight and my buzz was nicely kicking in. A few minutes after midnight Big Country demanded that we leave. I had just started feeling drunk. I asked if we could stay another hour. He flat out refused. I called us a cab, hugged everyone goodbye and stood outside, silently, in the cold. He blew up saying “what the fuck? You wanted to party until 5am?! We were just together for 3 days in Buffalo. What else do you want?!” I didn’t say a fucking word. I was fuming.
As soon as we got to the house I darted up the stairs and went to bed. It was when I heard him put the TV on downstairs that I ran back down and finally lost my shit…
