Does that make me crazy?
-Crazy, Gnarls Barkley
It’s only taken six years, but living next door to a golf course has finally paid off.
I peered out my window yesterday morning to find a golf ball sitting on the ground in front of my “patio”. Initially, I wasn’t so impressed. I wondered who was such an awful golfer that he (or she) had sliced the ball so far off course and couldn’t find it again. And just when did that happen anyway? The ball wasn’t there when I went to bed on
Friday night early Saturday morning. I spotted it roughly around 10 am. Who golfs that freakin’ early, especially when the mornings are still a little chilly?
I tried to ignore it, honestly I did- it wasn’t my golf ball as I don’t play and I returned the two that were previously in my possession to their owner- but the longer it sat there, I almost felt like it was there for a reason. Like it was a sign and if I continued to deny its existence that I’d be missing out on something important. I blame this rationale on the actions of the formerly mentioned (returned) golf ball owner. (He pulled a few questionable moves the day before and my mind was still reeling.)
My brain likes to make connections where none actually exist. Like attributing the sudden appearance of a golf ball to this man. So after a few hours of squirming uncomfortably, I got up, got shod and claimed the damn golf ball as mine. And I was relieved to find that other than being a golf ball, it had nothing in common with the returned ones (or the associated man).
At that moment, I was thrilled to have a golf ball for my shoulder pain again. I don’t care that he said that he’d keep them there in case I needed them again; I was willing to, and did in fact, suffer through annoying shoulder pain because to me, my gesture meant closure of whatever I had been feeling towards him. It meant freedom.
There was no going back; I’d suffer in silence (or near silence since I cannot seem to ever quit complaining) rather than let him know that I needed him again, still need him. That’s how it all started the first time.