A Chessic Goodbye

My darling Petrovna, 

I never thought I'd be sending something like this; but after a relationship as tempestuous and complicated as ours, I thought it would be best to get my feelings down on paper, so there would be no misunderstanding.  

I think it's time we broke up.  

I know this must come as something of a shock. We've been together now almost twenty years--can you believe it?--and I have come to know and love you much deeper than I would have ever thought possible. Do you remember how we met, in the college bookstore in Boston back in 1988? Oh sure, I'd seen you before; but those were just glimpses, like catching sight of someone across a crowded dance floor. It was in that bookstore that I started to learn about you, and it only took a little while before I started to adore you. It's funny--thinking about it reminds me of how young I was, how innocent.  

But you deserve more than just reminiscences--I owe you a reason. You may think it's a midlife crisis, some sort of phase, some old urges I need to work out. Maybe you're right, but from where I stand now it just feels like the magic is gone. I've come to know you too deeply, perhaps, so there's no sense of surprise, nothing more to explore. I am not the man I was at 18, while you...I just don't think we've grown in the same direction.  

And before you ask, it's not because so many people say nasty things about you. I know you're sensitive to it. You're not "boring," whatever they say! Your charms aren't always apparent to everyone at first glance, and I know when people use the word "solid," it makes you think you're fat. But that's not the way I see you. I've always been your most fervent defender, I've always tried to get people to see you as I do--beautiful and complex. In fact, I've often thought that those who disparage you are really covering up for their own insecurities, since they know they're not up to the challenge of really appreciating someone of your talents.   

But if I'm going to be honest with you, and you've certainly earned that, I need to tell you...there is someone else. And yes, it's that "French hussy," as you've so charitably called her. This is probably the biggest surprise of all, to me not the least. You know my feelings about her--for years I hated seeing her, I'd always complain if I had to sit down across from her, and I'd stand up feeling like I'd been torn apart. But for years, there's been a nagging in the back of my head--maybe all of this has been because I've set myself down as an opponent. How would I feel if we were together?  

I don't want to rub it in too much, but it's been fantastic. Sure, our relationship is more rocky; but she's exciting and new. I've already taken her out a few times, and I've come to realize that now she makes my blood boil in a good way.  

Look, you're going to be hurt by this, I know. And while you probably don't want to hear it, I hope we'll always be friends. I'm not going to stop telling people how wonderful you are, and I'm not going to stop defending you to your detractors. I'm sure you'll find someone else--you just have to find the one who will appreciate you for who you are.

I will always love you, Petrov Defense. Goodbye.  

PS: I am really going to miss that nasty little thing you let me do against the Center Game. If there's one regret I have, it's that I'm not going to have the opportunity to uncork the Peterson Variation (1 e4 e5 2 d4 Nf6!?) against those unsuspecting Center players!