I've always told myself that love is just a game, and we're all players, but now I think I actually believe it. I looked at it as a card game before, with hearts and diamonds and clubs and the awkward spades like me, which was fine at the time, but more recently I'm feeling chess metaphors.
I think he must be a white knight, and I've gotta be a bishop. Michael's probably a rook; slow to start, but he's content with that, and once he's out of the gate, watch out - he'll cut you to the quick. But other than that, the board is full of pieces I can't control, outside forces...take Cleveland for example.
I was invited by a production student to go to Cleveland as an assistant, just for the weekend, and what made the deal even sweeter was the fact that the knight would be there, along with some other pawns and bishops and rooks and knights I'm good friends with...but everything fell through with transportation and timing and I ended up home alone instead of in Cleveland with my knight.
That's why I haven't mentioned the kings and queens yet. I think the kings of the game of love are time and space, and the queens are attraction and interaction. Most of the time, you can't control them, but with a well played game you can make even time and space work for your benefit. I'll let you know when I figure out exactly how.
All that I really do know is that I like him. A lot. And that I want us to hang out more. I want to know the Scott that's hidden somewhere deep beneath that mask of smiles and quiet jokes. I want to know the Scott that cries at funerals and laughs at irony. Because I think that's the Scott that might just like me back. The Scott I'd have a shot with.
Maybe that's what the game of love is really all about. Not playing hand after hand with person after person, looking to hit the jackpot. Maybe it's just playing move after move, chipping away at the all the excess until you can finally know the person underneath. Like archaeology, or sculpting, or something we can't even conceive. Maybe that's what love's supposed to feel like when you're my age and on the lookout for it. Or maybe that's just me.
I think he must be a white knight, and I've gotta be a bishop. Michael's probably a rook; slow to start, but he's content with that, and once he's out of the gate, watch out - he'll cut you to the quick. But other than that, the board is full of pieces I can't control, outside forces...take Cleveland for example.
I was invited by a production student to go to Cleveland as an assistant, just for the weekend, and what made the deal even sweeter was the fact that the knight would be there, along with some other pawns and bishops and rooks and knights I'm good friends with...but everything fell through with transportation and timing and I ended up home alone instead of in Cleveland with my knight.
That's why I haven't mentioned the kings and queens yet. I think the kings of the game of love are time and space, and the queens are attraction and interaction. Most of the time, you can't control them, but with a well played game you can make even time and space work for your benefit. I'll let you know when I figure out exactly how.
All that I really do know is that I like him. A lot. And that I want us to hang out more. I want to know the Scott that's hidden somewhere deep beneath that mask of smiles and quiet jokes. I want to know the Scott that cries at funerals and laughs at irony. Because I think that's the Scott that might just like me back. The Scott I'd have a shot with.
Maybe that's what the game of love is really all about. Not playing hand after hand with person after person, looking to hit the jackpot. Maybe it's just playing move after move, chipping away at the all the excess until you can finally know the person underneath. Like archaeology, or sculpting, or something we can't even conceive. Maybe that's what love's supposed to feel like when you're my age and on the lookout for it. Or maybe that's just me.
