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Saturday, July 17, 2010

A Letter to Risk

(No, not this Risk. Though the Middle Earth version of Risk is EPIC hours of fun. Despite the fact that no matter who's playing, the "good guys" always win. I think it's rigged.)

Dear Risk,


It's been awhile. Remember me? Red hair, brown eyes, freaky obsessed with pirates? Yeah, that girl. I know we haven't really been on "speaking terms" lately, and I guess it's mostly my fault. No, actually -- it's ENTIRELY my fault. I've kept you at a distance by use of denial and dance-like avoidance maneuvers. I've become very good at avoidance-dancing. I break it down, yo.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- jokes aside, I have been dodging you at all costs. So I guess it should come as no surprise, then, that you don't really work in my favor anymore. My life has become mellow and quiet, and I have no one but myself to blame. This began a few years back and progressed up through those proceeding years until I find myself today, here, now, writing this letter to you for all the world to see. I made a lot of decisions that piled up and turned into one big snowball of "safe" decisions. I'm not proud of it. I'm not proud of any of it. I took the easy way out 9.7 times out of 10 and never looked back.

Until now.

Now I see where those snowballed safe decisions have gotten me. A quiet life. A pass-by-and-never-be-noticed life. A life that I really don't want.

So I'm writing to you, Risk, to come to a truce. I promise to put an end to my snowball safe decisions if you promise to start working in my favor. As proof of my commitment to this promise, I quit my job. No promise of another job. No idea what I'm going to do with the next few months (really, years, but who's counting?). Totally and completely jumping into a big bucket of inky-black Risk. I'm serious and I'm eager and I'm hoping you're serious and eager to agree to your end of the promise. Playing it safe and making the "wise" decisions have only gotten me -- here. And here isn't so great anymore. I'd much rather be terrified and happy than safe and mediocre. So I'm taking the first step, making the first move, nudging the first pawn across the chess board.

It's your move, Risk. But know that I'm ready. I have nothing left to lose -- and by that I mean I have nothing left to lose that I know I wouldn't survive losing. These past few years have, at the very least, created in me a sense of strength. I can survive, and I will survive, and it's about damn time I started surviving on my own terms. My decisions now.

Bring it on. Give me risks to take and mountains to climb and horrifically exciting adventures. Get me out of this rut and take me somewhere -- deliciously ambiguous.

Forever Your Girl,


Natalie Whipple said...

Ah, Risk. He's such a punk, except for when he's not. Then he's AWESOME.

You can do anything, Sara:)

Dara said...

I must admit, I have avoided Risk too the last few years. I'm thinking I should meet him again...especially regarding my job.

And I echo Natalie's comment: you can do anything!

Anonymous said...

*new reader*

love your blog, love this post, hope to read more of your work soon :)