Derailed Thoughts

The Toughest Game Known to Man

August 9th, 2008

Today is a day where a few of my thoughts have been boiling around in my head far too long. This post will be an opportunity to let them out for a bit, but I hope it might also be something insightful and worth reading.

Over the years, I’ve thought a lot about the so called “game of love.” The rules are strange, the strategies sometimes petty. We hear from all those around us that we can’t invest ourselves too early–we have to feel things out, carefully finding out how much the other is willing to wager. If we are highly interested in someone, we are told that it is crucial to mask our feelings and pretend that we are still nonchalantly testing the waters. In every action, specific timing is required. In every word, careful measurement is necessary. We might even spend time drafting in our minds a phrase or two that might be fitting, but that won’t give away too much of our position on our little battlefield. Sometimes it is even declared necessary to play the game as a double agent, pretending to have interest in someone new in hopes that our real subject of interest will be drawn out of hiding.

When I think about the nuances of our little game, I can’t help but wonder what differences there would be in a world where we were all honest about our feelings. It is true that to be open and vulnerable in a relationship leaves us great potential for heartache. I would argue that it is an unselfish and courageous action, though, to trust another with that vulnerability. No human need is deeper than the desire to be cared for. When feelings are expressed in an honest way, it must be seen as an unselfish offering of self.

There are many times in life where we are much more sure of our level of interest than we act. While we all know very well that time is the only test that can prove a relationship’s strength, a few deep conversations and a measure of spiritual sensitivity usually show us very clearly the level of potential that a relationship has. When we find ourselves unsure about a relationship, it is right that we move forward conservatively and are careful with the feelings of the others we date. As we become more and more sure of our feelings, though, it is a timid course of action to hide them.

I write these many scattered thoughts only to lead to one conclusion—there is no shame in rejection, and we should not fear to make ourselves vulnerable. Rather, placing ones heart on the line is an unselfish act that has no potential victim but ourselves, no greater beneficiary than the one we care for. I choose to not regret the times that I have found myself vulnerable, nor the times when I have found my offer left behind. Rather than treating love as a game of poker, slowly raising the bet and carefully measuring the other’s level of engagement, I choose to treat it as what it is–the most important decision and activity in life; one that requires definite disclosures, not sly secrets.

I hope to find a girl who feels as happy to be with me as I do with her, who is honest in her conversations with me, and who I feel secure in sharing anything with. If this is my wish, then I surely need to expect to have to work a bit. The game is a tough one–it’s one that by design can only be fully won a single time. We’ll all need to put our hearts on the line once in awhile.

But if that is what it takes, that’s what I’ll do.