Many, many years ago... I lived in a house in a small town called Kennesaw, Georgia with a group of guys who had taken me in off the street like a stray cat found howling in the alley.  I had left my mother and her husband shortly before graduation in futile hopes of finding some sort of sanity, and ended up in another sort of insanity thinking that this was indeed a better life than the one that I was currently living.  Within this new found land of madness, like all things in life, were these precious moments of peace that I still take pleasure in from time to time in what are called memories…   I don’t have a lot of these because I have chosen to lock them away in a place that I can’t easily access, but from time to time, I allow myself a glimpse of the ones that shine through like a ray of sunlight beaming down from heaven above.

One such memory is called “Learning to Play Chess” as a chapter from my own Sex and The City sensation would be titled, except the name of this book of mine would be called Attempting Survival in Redneckville at Eighteen.  Anyways, it was a Sunday morning and my roommate and I had gathered our piles of laundry into his car and drove down to the local laundry mat a few blocks away.  Now imagine what a laundry mat would look like in a town called Kennesaw, Georgia.  Yes, everything you’re imagining is correct.  It was a kind of place where you didn’t really want to touch anything, let alone CLEAN your clothes.  But it was what our little town where people gathered occasionally in all white with tall pointy hats had to offer, and we gratefully gave up our collected quarters stored in jars for the next clothing cleaning affair. 

We loaded our chosen washers after I had climbed into a dryer myself just to see exactly how large they were, and how much could fit into one of them, (A lot, thanks to my research.) and then both sat down on the filthy floor with our coffees and a game of chess.  I had never played chess before, but he was willing to teach me.  I was a budding intellectual wearing black with a beret, walking around town with my Nietzsche and notebooks, so yes; chess seemed to fit the picture… even in the midst of this small town hick laundry mat.  And so we began.  We were soon joined by a random truck driver washing his own wears while passing through town, who looked over my shoulder while we played the game.  I told him that I had never played before, and he seemed to take my side and offer advice with my moves.  Never judge a book, or man for that matter by his coveralls.  This guy knew his game of chess.

And this hazy morning, this captured moment… the juxtaposed pseudo-intellectuals with their coffee and chess in this back country laundry mat, with this truck driver who was in need of a rinse cycle himself… with the sun shining in while the fly’s were buzzing around the front door and with the washers and dryers churning will stay with me forever.

I lost my first game of chess.  As a matter of fact, I’ve never WON a game of chess which is something that I am not proud to admit.  My mother once told me that she use to compete in chess tournaments and was actually very good, so admitting that I have never actually won a game myself seems somewhat defeating to me… since I am my mother’s child and all… even if only blood would confirm it.  But if I’m even more honest with you I will continue to tell you that I’ve only play the game maybe a handful of times, and I’ve never held enough interest or patience to try and  really learn the game.  I am the only one to blame.

So why the talk of chess?  Well, because you see… I seemed to have stumbled onto a game recently that has lasted the past three months of my life.  This skilled “opponent” surprisingly found me and asked me if I wanted to play, telling me that it was easy, she would coach me, and “If I win… I win it ALL and then some.”  Bring the money to the bank honey, LET’S PLAY! 

It sounded good.  Too good to be true, which I do know is a sure sign to turn around and walk away.  But like the day I walked into the garden and saw the serpent wrapping so sexy around the tree telling me to just “try it.  I may like it.” I grabbed the apple again and sunk my teeth into it.  Deep.

Juicy.

Little did I know that the stakes of the game were life as I knew it. 

The game started off well enough.  I took a pawn, she took a pawn.  We laughed.  She even gave me the manuals to study and improve my moves.  I thought that she was my friend, my ally… but soon enough a partner of hers came along and took my rook.   

I didn’t like that.

The game continued.  But as the game progressed, if that’s what you want to call it, I realized that this opponent was much bigger than I was.  MUCH.  I had John behind me, but all he could say was, “I don’t know what to do.”  And so I dove in and had to become bigger myself. 

I recently read in one of my many books chosen for the year that in order for you to get what you want in life, you have to expand to become the person who has what it is that you want.  This makes sense to me.  And so I began to expand in becoming this new person, who is an expert chess player and knows the moves in and out, who can see what’s coming, plan ahead and even deceive the opponent into believing that I am indeed this BIG PLAYER myself.  HAHA!

And then the opponent began to change the rules on me.  You see… this was HER game and SHE can DO whatever SHE WANTS.  And if I don’t go along with these rules of HER’s… I can just step out of the game if I so choose, which let me remind you, will cost me my life as I know it.

And so we continued the game by her rules.  What choice did I have?  Ground shaken from beneath me, I looked around and saw that this game of chess of mine was extending farther and farther out.  The pebble was tosses into the pond.   And the consequences were not only affecting my life and John’s but many, many others around me.  And so the pressure and stress began to build along with the focus and NEED to win the game. 

While resting to gain strength to continue the game the next day, other stresses mounted, like waking up at 2:30 am to hear the howl of a coyote and then my cat screaming out in pain.  Or finding out that the neighbor’s akida had just attacked our dog.  Or… let’s just leave it at it’s been a really rough couple of months.  Fucking rough.  This is why I have been distant for so long.  And because I don’t like to talk about all this, for lack of a better word… shit.  I figure, the shit has got to stop being slung at some point, and then we can all go back to talking about puppies and unicorns; how nice.  Side note, both Ami and Brian are recovering and doing well. 

All the while… I just keep saying, repeating my mantra, singing my song... that I’m waiting for my real life to begin.  So patiently waiting.  The one that I so preciously planned out on my birthday three months ago now.  The one that I am so excited and anxious to start.  The one that fits me like no other.  The one that I have dreamt of for so long.  The one that is right before me wanting me to grab hold... if only I can finish this game of chess.

I thought that the game was over.  I really did.  The hourglass is nearly empty.  Time has run out.  I have played a hell of a game.  I know it.  But I am no competition for HER, and I know that too.   Especially when she keeps changing the rules on me.  She keeps taunting me with success and then takes away my pawns, my rooks, my knights.  Over and over and over again.  And then laughs and continues with her taunting to keep up.

“What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

Fuck that.  When, oh when can I please just rest?!?  When can I let go?!?  When can I just stop being so fucking strong?!?  And really, why do I need to be THIS strong anyways?  What is the purpose of all of this?  PLEASE, someone give me the crystal ball and just tell me if I’m going to win or lose?  Just tell me, so I can get this game over with and get on with the life that is mine to be had.

And then this past Friday, John whispered into my ear, “Look!  She’s giving up her queen!” 

She’s giving up her fucking queen.

She’s giving up her queen? 

But look at the smile on her face.  Her coy eyes... 

She’s giving up her queen.  But I see that in order to give up her queen, I must let go of mine own.  And then… she could very possibly still say, “Check mate.” 

It's my move.  And I just don’t know what to do.

But for the time being… I’m at a stalemate.  Time that I just don’t have.  Time that continues to slip by, always seemingly faster near the end.  Unless she changes the rules once again… and decides to turn the hourglass over.