The Girl He Used to Know

by Tracey Garvis Graves

The game of chess is largely silent, but to me there is great beauty in the lack of sound.

But maybe my failed marriage isn’t far enough behind me. That’s the thing no one tells you about divorce. No matter how much you and your spouse agree that the relationship is broken, it hurts like hell when you go your separate ways, and the pain follows you around until one day, it doesn’t.

“I can handle the academic load, but I volunteer twice a week in the Wildlife Medical Clinic and then there’s chess on Sunday night. That’s enough for me.” I required more downtime than most people. I needed to be able to read and sleep and be alone.

There were twelve of us competing that day, and if I’d had to drive over with the others, packed six to a car like sardines, surrounded by noises and smells, I would not have agreed to do it.

He seemed calmer, but he kept bringing up all the times I’d said or done the wrong thing. It made me feel like crying. But then I remembered that no one can make me feel inferior without my consent.”

‘A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it’s in hot water.’

but I didn’t often drink them. Drinking alcohol made it harder for me to understand people; I had a hard enough time following along when I hadn’t drunk anything at all.

Annika’s honest response to what is essentially one of the most common female conventions is priceless, but she says it so sweetly—without a trace of sarcasm—that I may be the only one who realizes she didn’t arbitrarily change her mind. It just took her a few extra seconds to shuffle through her brain for the appropriate social response. No wonder she was so tired after I took her to my company dinner. It must be exhausting, and it makes me feel extra protective of her.

“It’s like everyone around you has a copy of the script of life, but no one gave it to you so you have to go in blind and hope you can muddle your way through. And you’ll be wrong most of the time.”