The Story of a Former Wrong Card Addict, Part Two

Enjoy the second half of guest blogger LadyLuck's story! If you missed Part One, you can find it here.

Due to my success in business I decided to once again roll the dice – I quit my fabulous jet-setting job and moved to England to start my own business. Even though the economy was just starting to downturn, commodities and labor were cheap and the British pound was dropping – in theory, it was a great time to start a business in my chosen field. Since High Roller was content to stay in the States, I was on a mission to find a new player – and it didn’t take long.

I stepped out of a plane in London and thought that I was the hottest new game in town. It was there that I met up with a former travel acquaintance - a handsome and subtle stereotypical Englishman whom I’ll call The Royal Flush. Just four days older than me, Royal Flush was my ideal counterpart. In addition to sharing a love for exploring exotic travel locations he was also another jet-setting professional who loved his work. He was single with no children and loved what he did for a living. Like me, he genuinely enjoyed his life. His voice was soft with a devastatingly melodic British accent, and his eyes a stunning and captivating sky blue. I found his humble and somewhat awkwardly shy demeanor completely foreign and utterly intriguing. There was a spaciousness and contentment in him that gave me butterflies. We had a wild and passionate weekend – we explored the city together, walking hand-in-hand through Leicester Square, and had great dinners together, alone and with our mutual friends - followed by amazing, cataclysmic sex. It was one of the most memorable weekends of my life.

True enough, I had won again in regards to finding a new player – the problem was that halfway through the game I decided that I wanted to change the rules. I wanted to up the emotional stakes a bit, get to know him better – and maybe one day play the game of being a real couple. It had been so long since I was in a relationship that I had forgotten what it was like to be out, in public, holding hands with someone that just made me happy - genuinely happy, without all the pretenses. We were on the train, his arms wrapped around me, heading back to Holland Park when seemingly an angel whispered into my heart, “This is why people get together” – and in that moment, my addiction to the High Roller and our loose, high-risk, minimal-gain game had ended. My professional life, my geography and personal life were all changing – and now I wanted more. I didn’t want $200.00 bottles of wine, 5-star hotels or fancy meals – I just wanted to be with Royal Flush. Right next to him, wherever he happened to be. Sadly, by the time I realized this I had already set the stage for a mere casual game of strip poker.

As he got ready to leave the next day, Royal Flush kissed me sweetly and said, “If I don’t get out of here soon I’m going to need rehab,” and shortly thereafter he left. I was beside myself. Did he mean what he said, or did he just have a really good poker face?

I was recounting the story of my folly to a good American male friend, the Joker, a week or so after the Royal Flush had left England and gone back to Asia on business. The Joker suggested that if I really wanted to be with Royal Flush that I needed to show him all of my cards and suggest a new game. I realized that this strategy, while somewhat humiliating, was the only hand I had - and after much angst, I decided to deal. Due to his being in Asia, I wasn’t able to contact him by phone or see him in person so I sent a well-written, well-thought out email lightly suggesting a re-match. Sadly, my email went unanswered. He had simply folded. It seems that in relationships, as in gambling, there are no do-overs.

In the game of love I had lost all my chips. I no longer wanted the cheap slots - I had lost all interest in recreational games and put an end to my relationship with the High Roller. I had come to realize that what I was getting from him wasn’t real, but rather just a load of craps.

Not long after that relationship dissolved, the High Roller’s house of cards also fell - within a year his wife had left him. He lost his Ferrari, his house, tens of thousands of dollars and spent months in a bitter custody battle. While our relationship was never the source of the marriage’s demise, or at least that is what I was told, I imagine it had a severe, indirect impact on it, at best. As for me, the unexpected sharp downturn of the economy was far greater than what I had expected, and I’m still experiencing the distressing turmoil that comes with being an entrepreneur in these rough times. I had to move back to the States and take another short-term job to keep myself and the business afloat until we get back on our feet - and while I am fortunate enough to have great emotional support from my friends and family, and a great set of skills to fall back on, I feel a great hole in the support structure that a relationship partner could provide - and I feel its absence daily. I still think about the Royal Flush, and wonder what kind of cards he could have been holding if I had played differently, but I have had no success in establishing a reconnection.

While it’s easy to blame High Roller for starting this game - as many of my friends did, it was I, ultimately, that decided to play. I still hold myself, not him, accountable for having let other opportunities, be it with the Royal Flush or other similar hands, pass by – and to some degree, the demise of the High Roller’s marriage.

As of now, I am completely single and testing the waters in the new game of partner-seeking. Armed with more knowledge, experience and wisdom from my mistakes, I play far less than I did before and far more strategically - and only when the odds are in my favor. I also have my eyes firmly set on a different type of prize. I’ve studied the rules of the game and am better able to evaluate my hand. I have found that for me, the key to successfully giving up the addiction to wrong cards isn’t to give up the entire game, but rather to get a better understanding of my needs and intentions, and to play responsibly.