sometimes i feel like life is a game of cards.
we get dealt a hand and its a gamble on whether we play the hand we have or fold, in a sense both could be a drastic loss. To gamble on what we were given would imply we played on while others around folded, we powered through and bluffed and raised our way to the end card being flipped over.
What chance do we have that the last card revealed will work in our favour? 50/50. perhaps even less. All that work and skill diminished in a game of luck or fate.
To fold may appear to be a rather simple solution, why bother gambling if your cards don't show promise? But to sit back and watch the others at the table continue on, each with a chance closer than you to winning. The regret and the wondering when you realised you were in it with a chance. You lacked the intuition to read others bluffs, letting your prize slip by quickly.
I would be brave in saying that I am the biggest gamble at the table. I usually see my cards and invest hopes and dream on them. An automatic optimist in the game of cards being played. sure I assess my losses but they are mere pebles on my path, barely distracting me.
Last night I'd been playing a game of cards for a rather long time. After bluff after bluff I finally folded. I'm sitting here still uncertain of whether the move was wise but I think that the prize pool was no where near big enough to have enticed me to play the final round. So what, I may have missed out! But i'd lost more than enough in the rounds leading up, i'd lost my trust, respect, ability to read people, ability to be free and i nearly lost my dignity. A small fragment of my heart may of gotten caught up too.
Folding was the best choice I've ever made. I made sure that i'll be so inclinced to deal with such dealings again and who knows maybe the small insignificant round i played on another table just after might may the deal oh so sweeter.
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