Life vs. Cards

I have decided that I play the game of my life as I play poker - which, on the whole, is not a good thing.

Poker, for me, is a very deliberate, structured, disciplined game. My strategy is very similar to that of the tortoise in the old fable - slow and steady wins the race. If you've ever played with me, you probably notice that I don't bluff all that much. I'm not aggressive. I don't usually put a good sized bet on the table unless I have something god in my hand - something worth backing up. I don't take chances while at the table, for fear of losing what I have. My theory is if I hold on long enough, to enough chips, eventually the big prize will come to me. All I have to do is stick to my strategy, and not be reckless, and eventually, the big pot will come my way.

This is all a fairly sound theory on how to play the game, I think. But it's relatively incompatible with a life plan, if one expects to be happy in the long run. As of right now, I have decided that my life has been a series of non-risks.

Professionally, I'm at a stalemate. I'm at the same job I was at nearly four years ago - the job that I told myself was just a way to earn some cash before grad school. But I'm still here, wearing the same name tag, at the same place, trying to hold on to what I have. Granted, the hours have improved significantly and my pay rate has, as well, as well as my level of respect thanks to my new position, but that only distracts from the fact that I'm a 27-year-old man who's still basically a clerk at a movie theatre. This should - must - change.

Personally, I'm still living with my grandmother, trying to help her and so forth, but she really doesn't need my help. She's a fiercely independent woman, who can take care of herself, thank you, and really the only reason I'm living there is for my mom's sake - she worries, a lot, and needs to know that Grandma's okay. Well, she is, and has said that she'd be more than okay if I moved on to my own place. But I'm still there. I need to live on my own. But I'm not. Why?

Socially, I'm still single. This is the part of my life where my failure hurts me the most. Despite the draining events of the past few years, I am still, at heart, a hopeless romantic. All I have ever really wanted - before success, independence, anything - has simply been to be loved. Period. But I have nothing to show for it. For all my qualities, such as they are, when presented with any kind of romantic interest, I become an incompetent boob who cannot for the life of him take a chance and say something. My instinct is always to be the best person I can be - be a good friend first. Don't sacrifice a quality friendship for a pipe dream. I tell myself that no woman would ever want to be with me. That no matter how good a person I am or how much I try to be there for them, they will never see me as anything but a friend, nothing more. I disqualify myself from the race before the gun even goes off.

And in the few instances where I have done something - anything - to express my interest, I get, "oh, you're too good a friend," or "you're just too nice a guy" or "but I love you in another way." All of which act as both genuine compliments and genuine attempts to let me back down to earth in as gentle a way as possible. I am still friends with every woman who has ever told me any of these things. I do value my friendships so very much. It's just when I hear women I know talk about how there seem to be no guys out there who treat them with respect or who don't act like @$$holes or who don't see them as sexual objects first, and on, and on, and on...I just wanna shout, there's ME! I've tailored my whole life to being the most kind, sensitive, caring person I could be, and I know in my soul I would love loyally and completely. But I'm not on the list, and for most of them, never will be. Why?

Because. Because of me. Because I won't put in the serious, hard effort it takes to change all that. I'm not attractive, that I know. But that could change. I just have to start working on it, seriously, deliberately, dedicated. I'm not confident. But THAT could change. I just have to start trying more, being myself more, being myself more often. Confidence comes with practice and time, too. I may lose more than I'll win, but only the luckiest of us come out winners all the time. With all things, success comes only through a studied combination of patience, dedication...and risk.

One of these, I have. The other two, I lack. And it's eating me up inside. It's only through a continued focus on strengthening those facets that I can ever hope to achieve what I want, hope and need to achieve. I need to start playing some hands. Because this pot ain't gonna last forever.