Making a Game Out of Love

A comparison of all my lovers

To all my ex-lovers, The Gatsbys I have used, The Heathcliffs I have tormented, The Romeos I have spurned, And the Rhett I let see my real side.

Rhett once told me that I held the love you all had for me, like a whip over your heads. I was his at the time, and he had fun taking me around on his arm. I had fun letting him see me plotting as I would go about, a predator out to snatch the next prey. He saw me scheming, manipulating, flirting and being cruel. He saw me angry and vicious, and happy and triumphant.

I let him see me wailing, So he let me punch his chest. I let him see me pouting, And he bought me a hat at my behest.

Romeo brought me flowers. Chrysanthemums, Marigolds, Zinnias and once, two Lotuses. He thought me supremely unique and so he strived to be unique for me. He put me on a pedestal, refusing to let his paws touch me. Self-denial was his thing, my feet the only part of me he would worship.

So when he brought me a diamond ring, I knew I had to jump down from the height. How could I be with a man, Who worshipped me so much, That he wouldn’t touch me?

Heathcliff was a faithful dog, running behind me, doing everything he could to please me. He was loyal too, but far too clingy. I knew he loved me too, this man-dog and so did what a master did to his dog. I played with him. He was happy on his knees, so far beneath me and yet thinking he was in my heart. He loved bringing me little gifts, a ribbon once, then a book on poetry.

Heathcliff was the one I tormented, Left behind, cluelessly waiting On a park bench. Is he still there? Waiting and hoping his mistress will come, The man-dog I left behind.

Gatsby was a bit better than the previous two, but in his heart was a weak fool just like the two. He bought me silk dresses and a diamond ring or two or three, but always despaired that he couldn’t bring me the moon too. He took me on rides to the countryside, introduced me to his momma and talked of marriage.

But Gatsby failed where The others failed too. He couldn’t woo me either, And so in despair, He withered too soon.

And since then I haven’t had a Gatsby or a Heathcliff or a Romeo. Sometime in the last years, I did meet a Darcy, a Vronsky and a Gray but all of them had an Achilles’ heel that I was only too eager to heal. Yet heal I did not accomplish truly and completely, for I never fell in love with them. Those men with fragile egos and fragile hearts were too delicate for me to handle.

I realized I had no one far capable than Rhett — a formidable adversary in the battlefield, a cunning ally and a supreme performer in my bed-chamber. And so to Rhett I went and he laughed and mocked and made fun of me and made me laugh and make fun of him right back.

This is to say, I have not yet found a suitable match but I have found the best companion, the best friend, the supreme lover I could have ever met. Somehow while playing my games, scheming my machinations, and plotting my future, I came across a rake just as bad as me. And it was as if I had seen myself in the mirror.

Perhaps we would fight (which we already did), Maim (our daggers are old friends now), Or hurt each other (we owe each other the best of our scars).

But we would see each other too. We could point out our flaws (We had fun doing that), And praise each other’s cunning (That led to magical nights in either bed chamber).

But it is time to reveal the truth. It has been a few summers since Rhett and I first met eyes across a party. It has been a few winters since we made allies and supported each other. It has been years since we came to know each other. And it has been aeons since we loved each other.

We asked each other if it would have helped — knowing what the burning was every time we were close, plotting, making fun of others or sweating it out in his bed. He says no. I say yes (as you see, we still have our fair share of disagreements).

I could have lauded it over him had I known. He could have made me beg. I could have manipulated him. He could have seduced me. (Which we ultimately did to each other, anyway).

But then or now, we are happy, Rhett and I. We still have fun playing our games and mocking each other. But at the end of the day, he does not give a damn about the world. I only give a damn about him.

So I may have lost the point of the argument, But dear reader, Rhett is the best of them, Just as bad as I am. And wouldn’t you agree?

Nayanika Saikia graduated summa cum laude with a Bachelor’s degree in English Literature and was also a Dean’s List student. She is currently pursuing her Master’s degree. At the moment, she is working as a Booktuber, blogger, and reviewer with various national and international publishers. She can often be found on her Instagram account Pretty Little Bibliophile.