I Never Know When To Fold
What if when I'm long gone
It dawns on you
You just might want me back
Let me make myself clear
If I leave here
It's done; I'm gone, that's that
You carry my love around
Like it's a heavy burden
Well I'm about to take it back
Are you sure it's worth it
I'm a decent poker player. But if there's one thing I'm really bad at, it's knowing when to fold. This flaw extends beyond the game, though, and into my personal life.
Every time I've tried to hold on to a relationship I've been left with nothing more than burnt hands sifting through the ashes. Only a few times have I been truly disappointed by the end of a relationship - three to my count. The third - the most recent - is unique in that the duration of the relationship was much shorter than the other two; though, in fairness, I should say the official duration was much shorter.
However, if there's one thing I can take away from the first two instances, it's that you never know what the future will bring. One of those endings became a new beginning, bringing my ex and I closer as friends than we likely every would have become as lovers. Another brought a strange respect and mutual experience for growth for both myself and that ex.
This newly-ended relationship doesn't feel like an ending - perhaps because of the nature of how we met and what led to us dating, it almost feels like it didn't really have a beginning. Or perhaps it's that I now realize that endings and beginnings are simply milestones that we set ourselves, with a disregard for the fact that the relationship may go on in some form or fashion that is altogether different.
I've seen people try to hold together the tattered remains of a broken love life, struggling against the tide that had long before turned against them. Maybe I've grown up; maybe I just don't have the energy to do it anymore. Either way, I'm not going to attempt to convince someone that I should be their man. If I should be, they'll know it and no convincing will be necessary.
I think I've learned when to fold my hand. Besides, even if I lose a few, all it takes is one good hand to leave the table a rich man.
It dawns on you
You just might want me back
Let me make myself clear
If I leave here
It's done; I'm gone, that's that
You carry my love around
Like it's a heavy burden
Well I'm about to take it back
Are you sure it's worth it
I'm a decent poker player. But if there's one thing I'm really bad at, it's knowing when to fold. This flaw extends beyond the game, though, and into my personal life.
Every time I've tried to hold on to a relationship I've been left with nothing more than burnt hands sifting through the ashes. Only a few times have I been truly disappointed by the end of a relationship - three to my count. The third - the most recent - is unique in that the duration of the relationship was much shorter than the other two; though, in fairness, I should say the official duration was much shorter.
However, if there's one thing I can take away from the first two instances, it's that you never know what the future will bring. One of those endings became a new beginning, bringing my ex and I closer as friends than we likely every would have become as lovers. Another brought a strange respect and mutual experience for growth for both myself and that ex.
This newly-ended relationship doesn't feel like an ending - perhaps because of the nature of how we met and what led to us dating, it almost feels like it didn't really have a beginning. Or perhaps it's that I now realize that endings and beginnings are simply milestones that we set ourselves, with a disregard for the fact that the relationship may go on in some form or fashion that is altogether different.
I've seen people try to hold together the tattered remains of a broken love life, struggling against the tide that had long before turned against them. Maybe I've grown up; maybe I just don't have the energy to do it anymore. Either way, I'm not going to attempt to convince someone that I should be their man. If I should be, they'll know it and no convincing will be necessary.
I think I've learned when to fold my hand. Besides, even if I lose a few, all it takes is one good hand to leave the table a rich man.
posted by Dave at 10:59:00 PM
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