and then there were none

Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth playing all these mind games.

Is it really beneficial to chart your moves, to analyse every action and plan for the next step? Are feelings nothing more than mere chess pieces, to be moved and captured with the sole intention of triumphing in the end? And what is this triumph? What do you get out of this, other than the opportunity to bask in the egotistical afterglow of some self-damaging contest? Where's the honesty? And what about the axiom of expressing one's true emotions? Measly pawns that are sacrificed to achieve what is inevitably a hollow victory.

And yet, there's the question of risk. How far is one prepared to go in order to 'seal the deal'? What if only one hand is clapping at the wind? There is no rewind button, no 'Previous' icon to click on. What's said will remain said, and no amount of backtracking will change that. How far will you go? How far will I go? The awkwardness if faced with a resolute 'No'; the deafening silence that follows; the tension that forms a perpetual wall between the protagonists; situations that create hesitation in the most daring of gamblers.

I reckon the risk of rejection (or should I say, fear?) is inversely proportionate to the degrees of separation between two people. The more layers there are, the more inclined one is to spilling the beans. Direct contact (close friend, colleague) brings the biggest risk. Can you face someone every day, knowing he or she sees no future with you? Would I be able to sit down and have coffee with a group of friends, knowing one of them is privy to my inner feelings, and is not reciprocating them? Take a minute to think it through, before spewing out oft-used phrases like "just do it" or "you gotta do what you gotta do" or even "go with the flow".

The two main weapons missing from most people's armoury (and definitely mine) are confidence and a thick hide. The former to express yourself, the latter to survive potentially damaging rejection, both psychologically and emotionally. I can only speak for myself when I say it only takes a few minutes to swiftly unravel what has been carefully nurtured and protected over the years. To avoid that, you and I wait and see. We play a waiting game, collecting positive signs and explicit signals, accumulating them until there is no doubt whatsoever that we'll receive an affirmative response to our propositions. You yearn for a gentle gesture, I anticipate a revealing word; anything that resembles a carrot to which we can pursue with renewed hope and youthful zing.

But enough of these purposeless laments, these needless groans and moans that will eventually be quite grating even to me. I'm shrugging off the dusts of disappointment that litter my mind; I'm putting events into perspective. I'm reaffirming my commitment to ambivalence, which is comforting in some sadistic form. Or is it masochistic?

After a while, who cares.