The Games We Play

This is our love ball. It’s okay, go on and giggle. We know it sounds vaguely dirty. It makes us giggle, too.


I’m not sure exactly how it started, but I remember the early days of our relationship–back when he first asked me to his place to “look at his art” (I thought it was code, and was shocked when it turned out he really did have artwork and no ulterior motives), and before I knew it, there was a day weeks later when I realized I’d spent nearly every night at his place. It was the same day he introduced me to friends as his girlfriend, and my response was, “Oh crap, I am!”

For the first time in my life, I finally understood how something could “just happen.” Up until I met him, I had a lot of logical ideas about compatibility, good planning, and all sort of other standards and notions about picking a partner that made perfect sense. He made me crazy even then, but I loved him almost immediately, and I knew that life with him would never be boring.

I was right. I always am. I’m pretty sure that makes him crazy, too.

Somewhere in those early days, we started playing this game. At some point, he threw this ping pong ball at me. I threw it back. I wrote those words. We threw it a lot. We started yelling “Love Ball!” just after whipping it at the other.  We still play–perhaps not with the same fervor we once did, but that ball has made it’s way with us through three homes, and six incredibly interesting years together.

He usually throws it too hard. It always hits me with a resounding smack, and the momentary sting of it sometimes fills me up with anger. It’s hard to stay angry when you look down and see that heart and those words. He’s gotten me upside the head with it more than once. His aim is inconsistent.

My aim is usually even worse. I’ve thrown it, and completely missed him. Sometimes, he doesn’t even notice. Other times, I think he hasn’t noticed, but he has, and is just biding his time to throw it back at just the right moment.

I can’t remember a time when he hasn’t caught me off guard. I’m surprised with it nearly every single time. He almost always sees it coming a mile away. Funny how that works.

Maybe some of you could get something to throw at each other. We can’t teach you how to play. We’ve just been making it up as we go along. It’s one of those games where the rules aren’t really clear. It’s the kind of game that never ends–no one can win, so no one loses, either. Maybe that means everyone wins. It’s always so hard to decide, but I think that might be my favorite part.


Family Movie Night. (Me, Mr. Cupcakes, Princess Adora: Mistress of Tortitude. (Not Pictured: Kitty Captain Malcolm Reynolds. He was off on a catnip smuggling operation.)


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