scrabble - eight
i said we’re like a rubix cube. and he said “no, because you have many ways to get to the same solution.”
“we’re like scrabble.”
scrabble is a game with multiple methods and multiple outcomes.
as humans, we dance. we dance with each other. when you meet someone, you dance from a distance - cautious yet intrigued, as you slowly become in sync. dancing is all about being in sync. you get closer with someone you dance with, essentially establishing a form of intimacy. intimacy can be innocent at first, driven by the curiosity and temptation to get to know someone.
as i place a block down, you place a block down. as i spell a word, you spell a word.
i mean i don’t know how scrabble works, it’s a retirement home game.
V U L N E R A B L E is what i spell out.
i don’t like being vulnerable. it’s an ugly feeling. having your feelings out on display is almost like wearing no clothes. he makes me feel vulnerable. he makes me want to run. run. run from the glowing amber signals that warn me that this - whatever this is - could be detrimental to both our existences.
S O F T L Y is what he spells out.
we feel the most human and the most raw when we speak to each other, softly. we speak to each other softly when nobody else is around. because then that takes away from the softness of our relationship. the softness we don’t allow anyone else to see. the softness we establish with each other. the softness we create to keep. a softer tone for a softer moment keeps that memory separated - each to their own.
P A S T is what i spell out next.
i fear that i get caught up in the past too often that i’ll never progress in the present. for i am far too reminiscent and sentimental to let go yesterday and the days that came before. the past is my enemy in the moments i long to move on. and the past is my teacher for when i need to learn how to move on.
S T O R Y is what he spells out last.
i wish that our story was a story i could compose into a better book. one with more colour and one with more love. one with better characters and less praying on the protagonists’ downfall. with less of a shit ending, a better climax and a sweeter start. but i’m not the author of this story, and i can only hope that the next chapters suck a lot less are better.
we’re like scrabble. a game that has many ways of being solved. and if we ever reach a happy resolution, someday, that story will be told.
- z.r.h.