At present, I am engaged in a rather odd ongoing rather lengthy game of cat and mouse. I'm usually up for anything challenging, risky and a bit unconventional. As a participant, I'm always confident of the outcome, yet in this case I haven't figured out who's the cat, who's the mouse and what the stakes are for playing this game. I do, however, know all things come with some sort of a pricetag, but this pricetag seems so elusive. Win or lose, I know my investment (perseverance, honesty and unconditional love) has not gone unnoticed and on some level are qualities that have kept me in this game. My mind reflects on the serenity prayer remembering the difference between the things I can and can not change, but I choose to change nothing and remain steadfast until the end. I'll roll the dice and see what happens.... I fear the extremes, yet crave them like a drug. As this subtle, unrehearsed, spontaneous dance continues, the issue of options seems like a worthy topic to hold my focus for awhile...What are my options? I'm told to make my own options and eventually I will. Eventually, when all is said and done, things will have happened just as they were supposed to happen.
Out of the blue, the conversation changes from idle chitchat about basically nothing to let's read between the lines and see who can be more stubborn.The Wizzard or Red Kitten?
Wizzard: What would you do with me?
Red Kitten: Huh?
Wizzard: I said, "What would you do with me?"
Red Kitten: Yes, I saw that
Wizzard: And?
Red Kitten: And if I have to do something with you, what are my options and I'll pick one...maybe two things.
Wizzard: Make your own options.
Red Kitten: Yeah right!
Wizzard: I asked, "What would you do with me?"
Wizzard: You get to name the options, what are ya skeered?
Red Kitten: You know nothing scares me.
Wizzard: So?
Wizzard: Afraid of laying it on the line?
Red Kitten: Okay...I'd pick a ride on your bike and a few laughs.
Wizzard: Sounds like a good time.
Red Kitten: I think you know me better than that...like I said, nothing scares me.
Red Kitten: Are you afraid to lay it on the line?
Wizzard: But that sounds like a good time, low risk.
Red Kitten: It sounds like a male thing to me.
Red Kitten: lol
This is where the Wizzard retreats until next time and although we maintained a lasting friendship he never was able to tell me what he wanted from me. Unfortunately, it became a stalmate because neither one of us would budge. Too many things had happened between us for his simple apologies to fix the problems or for his amazing charm to gloss over the pain I felt. He had crushed my ego and made me question my self-worth.