You know that security blanket I was talking about in my column before last? Well, I must have bought mine on clearance, or simply been blinded by bliss and not noticed its rips and tears when it was draped so carelessly around my shoulders. In one weekend I grew closer with a gent and got dumped by a lady.
My (now former) partner, Ola, has decided to play with somebody else. So, the National Volleyball League event in Malibu? And the Corona Light Wide Open tour stop in Chicago at the end of the month? We will not be playing together as planned. I can’t even say for sure that I will be playing in them; that all depends on whether I can find a suitable partner in such short notice.
How did this happen, you are probably wondering? Why, I remember it as if it were just last Saturday…because it was. As I was playing in a co-ed tournament on Fourth Street in Manhattan Beach, Ola was playing with a mutual friend down in San Diego. Honestly I felt a little queasy that day — as if I had encouraged my boyfriend to take a day trip frolicking around with a cute, sexy, single girl. They ended up taking second. The next morning I get messages asking if I had booked my flight to Chicago. Then came the most cliché, the most feared four-letter sentence: we need to talk (guess the silver lining here is that I hadn’t yet booked my flight).
I may not like or agree with it right now but I have to respect her decision. It’s business. She had been gravitating towards a different trainer for weeks while I remained content with the one that I have been working with. Was this a factor that played into her decision? Certainly. How much of a factor did it play? I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t give a damn, because as of right now she no longer believes in “us” and that I am forced to accept. I will not lose sleep over something that is out of my control.
Since the breakup I’ve just been trying not to get upset because it would be so easy, considering that I thought I was a part of a team that was going to excel in these upcoming tournaments, instead of a girl whose summer volleyball plans have been effectively crushed.
And please, don’t think that I’m trying to be overly dramatic for your reading pleasure. I use the word “crush” because I wanted so badly to train, grow, and compete with one person who I believed in and who believed in me. I yearned to earn respect from other players and be a threat to them on the volleyball court, not just another Brazilian cut on the scene.
Can I still do that by my lonesome? Is it worth it to shovel out hundreds of dollars a month in training costs, not knowing if I will find a partner? Of course. I am not the first player to get dumped and I will not be the last. My number one priority is still my growth as an individual, with or without an able body to my left.
Katrina Zawojski lives in Hermosa Beach and is chasing her dream of a career in professional beach volleyball. Follow her on Twitter at sandinmysuit1.
