I recently wrote a story called "Words with Friends" and told of playing the game with an old friend.
An old friend whom I will always hold dear. We went on a rampage of playing. I think we played two games in one week. (and that is TONS for me). Then we were going to take a break. Only I was bored at a hockey game and asked to play again.
We started again, only a bit more slowly this time. Not playing a bunch of times in a day, but just once or so a day. More like a "good morning" and a "good night". It was nice. I liked the good morning. I liked the good night. It was just enough.
One morning though, I didn't want to play any more. I wasn't tired of the game. I think I've even learned a thing or two. Learned the meaning of some new words. Learned that some words, well are actually words (oohed - for example. They "oohed and aah ed" at the performance. Only "aahed" is not a word, but "oohed" is.)
I realized the game was making me sad. I don't like playing games. I don't like that you are playing a game with someone else and me too. I don't like that I'm playing games with others and not just you. After all, I'm pretty loyal.
Yes, I've cheated. I've had to look up words and try over and over again to see if something is a word. If it's real.
I went to resign. Quit the game. I no longer wanted to play. But then I realized, if I quit the game, it would then start a new game - a game of me quitting first. Where you wanted to quit first. An entirely different game. You can't just quit. When you've played for this long.
Then a funny thing happened, I realized sometimes it takes a bigger person to quit then to hang on. Just because you are use to playing, doesn't mean you still should.
So, instead of resigning, I quit.