I took a step back letting his words sink in to my gut. Europe was a better opportunity, and we both knew that. There was no doubt. Before the WPL existed, Americans went overseas because it was the only place to go. But if it came down to it, most athletes would rather stay close to home. I was one of them.
More importantly, Kulti had always told me that there was only one person in the world I needed to watch out for, and that was me. Yet, here he was telling me otherwise. He was making me feel bad for even thinking about going to Europe without mentioning it to him first.
“I didn’t say I would go, he just brought it up. It’d be a great opportunity if I wanted to leave my family, which I don’t think I want to, but…” I felt unsure. “Why are you being like this? I don’t badger you over stuff you don’t want to talk about, which is just about everything. Plus, you’re my friend; I figured you’d be happy someone was trying to work with me on improving my skills. You of all people should understand.”
The German seemed to be trying to bore a hole straight into the center of my face. “I would have worked with you any time, any day you wanted, Sal. I could care less what management or the coaching staff think. You of all people shouldn’t think twice about what your teammates say about you. They’re nobody.”
God, this man. “I’m sorry, Rey, am I a mind reader? Am I supposed to know you’d want to practice with me?”
“No. You’re stubborn and a pain in my ass.”
“I’m a pain in your ass? You’re a pain in my ass. I try and I try with you, and for what? For you to be an asshole when you’re frustrated or upset? Maybe other people will deal with your shit when you act like that, but I can only take so much. I like you. I like how well we get along sometimes, but I don’t know anything about you really, when it comes down to it. All you do is give me these bits and pieces when you’re in the mood. When you’re not in the mood, you don’t say anything at all. Or you go through this fucking phase where you give me dirty looks and ignore me for no apparent reason. How is that supposed to make me feel?
“I’ve already put enough on the line being your friend. I’ve shared my family with you, my home; I’ve told you things I haven’t told other people. I’ve put my career at risk for this—us. You have nothing to lose, and I have everything I care about in jeopardy. I’ve given and I’ve given to everyone, and for what? To have what I valued the most in my life taken away? I’ve been trying, and I’m fine with that, but you need to meet me at least a quarter of the way. There’s only so much I can take from you and your freaking mood swings.”
I palmed the back of my head as I watched him, waiting. Waiting for something. For some assurance, some promise that he would try to keep his crap under control, or at least try harder.
Instead his face took on a hard expression, the tendon in his neck straining. “I’m too old to change, Sal. I am the way I am,” he finally offered to me in a crisp voice.
“I don’t want you to change. All I want is for you to trust me a little. I’m not going to screw you over, and I don’t like giving up on things,” I told him in an exasperated voice.
And what did he say? Nothing. Not a single thing.
I’d never been a fan of people who talked a lot. I thought it was a person’s actions that really said what mattered. That was until I met Reiner Kulti, and I suddenly felt like stabbing myself in the eye.
My head gave a dull throb, a warning of a tension headache beginning. I suddenly realized this conversation was going nowhere. Exhaustion poured straight into my muscles, and for the first time in a long time, I felt defeated. I hated it.
But there comes a time when you have to listen to your gut and not your heart, and I did just that.
“Maybe we both have too much stuff going on right now. I’m overwhelmed, and I have no idea what I’m doing, and you have your own crap to work out. Maybe you need to figure out what you want to do with your life before we can keep being friends. If you even still want to be friends after this.” I told him.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth he looked outraged. Absolutely outraged. “Are you joking?”
I shook my head, grief coming down on me with such a force it made me want to cry. At the end of the day though, it was like he said: no one was going to watch out for me but me. “No.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it, and a second later he shook his head and was gone.
* * *
Kulti didn’t come to my house that day or the next.
When I started to feel a little guilty on Sunday afternoon, I sent him a text.