The Quiet Game.

I loved playing games as a kid. Board games, card games, games of tag and kickball, hide-and-go-seek. I wasn't too competitive (Side note: With one exception- Red Rover. Just try to come right over, bitch, and see what happens). Sure, winning was cool, but so was the simple act of playing the game. Victory was always a sweet bonus, a pleasant surprise. I wouldn't say I was a young defeatist (Side note: I probably was), but I never expected to win. I generally went into any game with three hopes: 1) To have fun 2) To not die 3) *most important* To not look stupid.

 Anytime we were in the car, I would make up games (usually involving counting of some kind). How many American flags from my preschool to our home in OKC? How many Volkswagen Beetles?  How many water towers will we pass in the next few minutes? How many times will I see the number 8 on a sign? How many Super 8 motels? (Side note: I think I was obsessed with the number 8. I also had to find every number 8 in my alphabet soup before I would eat it. I'm just now realizing this was probably weird). This counting game required observation and a lot of attention. And I was good at it. In fact, I won every game. Want to know how I did it, my secret? I didn't tell anyone else they were playing. My competition had no idea that a game was going on. I spotted all of the water towers before they did. I counted the flags the quickest. No 8 went unseen by me. Big surprise, seeing as no one else in the car even thought to notice those things. So of course I won. (Side note: In a post all about winning, I sure am making kid Leah sound like a loser. Damn).

I still do this today. I count water towers. I count the seconds before the stoplight changes, closing my eyes and opening them in the hopes that it has blinked from red to green "magically." I count out portions of food (to a rather absurd degree sometimes). I'll walk away from the microwave and then race back to try to beat the timer. Even the people who know me best don't know this about me. I count. And I compete.

I compete with other people every day. Where are they going? What are they doing? Are they traveling? Getting married? Graduating? Working their dream job? And then there's me. I've been around and done a lot, but do I have anything to show for it? Am I "winning?"

I'm competing with people who aren't aware of the game. At least, they're unaware of mine. They're probably busy playing their own games. I know nothing of the lives of others. No one really does. We only know ourselves- what we want, how we feel. And if we aren't careful, we'll compare. We'll end up pushing ourselves to win and win and win this quiet game that is so internally loud, and we'll be competing with no one but ourselves.
Love and peace to all of you.


*Titles for this post that didn't make the cut...*
The Game We All Play (hmm, maybe I should've gone with this one?)
Ready Player One (taken)
Single-Player (sounds like dating website for gamers)
Try me, Charlie Sheen (he'd win)
Me- 0 Everyone Else- 1000000000000000000000000002 (too obvious)
Playing By Myself (sounds pathetic)
Playing With Myself (no explanation needed)
The Number 8 (sounds like a bad Rom-Com)

*bows*