The Game

Maybe I’m new to the game, maybe you’ll see this as me conceding defeat, but I hope you’ll see my hands forming a T across the court. I want to sneak a glimpse into your playbook. 

Are we circling each other, scoping things out, sizing it up? Are we playing it cool, pretending we don’t think about each other? 

Maybe you’re not playing. Maybe you’re cool, maybe I don’t cross your mind. But I think about you. And I’m not afraid to say so, I don’t think. If you consider this a time-out, that remark will be off the record. And if you consider it defeat, then I guess it doesn’t matter, anyway.

It seems scary, jumping in like this, opening myself up to something I can’t fully trust. I can’t trust myself, and therefore I can’t trust you, just like I couldn’t trust those who came before you. 

But I know this: I want to tell you what’s on my mind, and I want to hear what’s on yours. Sometimes the chase is the best part, the suspense, the wanting. I don’t think that’s the case with us. I think the best is yet to come.

But if you want to play, I’ll play with you. 

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