long-term relationships

so i haven't completely come clean. if you really know me, you know that boys are... an issue with me. well, i suppose they're an issue with every girl. but i'm just not good with boys. i can be loud, a bit obnoxious at times, a bit blunt at times, a bit funny at times...but as far as the "let's get together, yeah yeah yeah" (remember, from parent trap?), i'm a bit...i don't know, i guess you could fill in the blank. i honestly don't have the right adjective. usually i start off as "sweeeeet" or "he's nice" or "reor!" but then...i dunno, i get skiddish, skeptical, then i freak out and bail out.
bailing out's my favorite. :/ (sadly, yes...i'm that girl.)

and i'm sure i'm the maestra of all bad liners.
"....." ehhh no, i won't quote myself out of fear and embarrassment.

okay, friends: most of you know that my longest relationship has been under a year... i'm pretty sure it was about 9 months.
well, i had a longer one. and it lasted...sixteen years.
yup, ridiculous. sixteen years of love and hate and fights and screaming and laughing... wins and losses
okay duh, you're saying. duh, jamie. we all know about the softball thing.
yeah, i mean you do, but you don't.
right now, softball is definitely not my favorite part of life. i've completely detached myself from the scene, only i give pitching lessons to young girls who want to throw like cat osterman or monica abbot (oh dear, i hope not) or even me.
i feel like i'm falsely advertising, since i honestly see softball as a growing disappointment, but at the same time, i'm trying to be as honest with these girls as possible.

i started ball when i was 4, played slowpitch til i was like 10 or something. lalala, details are boring, i started pitching between ages 10 and 11, then fastpitch began.
for 8 years--EIGHT--my dad and i would drive (sometimes with people, sometimes without) an hour and a half for lessons and an hour and a half back. for years, i had no saturdays, i pitched generally 3-5 days a week, depending on what part of the year it was.
appointments...all the time. pitching appointments, hitting appointments, fielding appointments, chiropractic appointments, physical therapy appointments, orthopedic appointments, massage therapy appointments (which i won't complain TOO much about).

and it was worth it, i suppose. in high school and travel ball team, we were always successful. my parents forked up a lot of money, along with the support of our team sponsor, just so i could be good. so i could have a name for myself, be known by others, and have fun. now, don't think my parents were just nazi-harsh with my training and playing year round...literally. dad always told me to stop playing when it wasn't fun. well, it stopped being fun my freshman year of college. i stayed another year, endured an absolute ________ (fill in the blank) of a coach, and after tearing my rotator cuff and blowing out my ulnar nerve, i finally... after years of debate, years of strawberries and pulled muscles and jammed fingers and bleeding callouses and bruised shins, years of parent drama and player drama and team drama and coach drama, years of traveling more and more and more, years of fun times and sucky times, i finally broke up with softball.

it felt great, and i haven't regretted it since, much like all my other relationships. but it makes me question myself. my own feelings, my own attachments.

i literally spent years and years, innumerable hours working specifically for softball. sure, it got me a great job as an instructor. but as far as feeling a great reward for it? not so much. and i mean, i did well--i was successful. i have things and awards, but i was never that deeply rooted. it was like, "okay, i'll do it. i'm pretty good at it, why not?"
i'm sure it kept me out of trouble, giving me an outlet for my energy. and as of now, becoming more involved in mission work, softball is something i can teach others as a means of outreach. which is great.

but i'm just not emotionally invested. i never am, really.