A Game Worth Forfeiting

Tea: Vanilla Jasmine

Music: Real Life, "Catch Me I'm Falling"

Time: Night.

I really like a lot of games.

I like Scrabble, and chess, and backgammon. ("Like" probably isn't a strong enough word for Scrabble.)

But I don't like the "You said something that stung me, so my words have to hit back" game.

I've played it. I'm pretty good at it, which is not a good thing. But it's hard to give up. There's a certain cold satisfaction in swatting a word-volley that hits its mark.

Again, that's not a good thing. The points in this game are poisoned splinters, working their way in long after the sound of the words has faded. The longer they stay in, the more they fester and the more care it takes to remove them. Some never come out. They become part of us.

And it isn't only the scored-upon person who is injured. To hurt another is to hurt oneself, even if the damage isn't immediately apparent.

I don't think it's possible to quit this game entirely. I'm human (on my better days). I know others are, too. We react when we're hurt. But it is possible, I believe, to acknowledge we've been hit without seeking to strike back. That has to be my goal, even if I don't always achieve it

And if I "lose" the exchange, what have I really lost? A chance to damage someone else, and myself?

I'll take that chance.