It’s funny, the name.
Board games.
They’ve never felt boring to me. Never flat. Never something to do just to pass the time.
If anything, they feel alive. Energizing in a way I can’t quite explain. Sitting around a table, piece in hand, thinking, laughing, plotting, watching people come to life across from me. It doesn’t feel like I’m killing time. It feels like I’m living through it.
I don’t always have the energy for people. Not in the regular sense. Not the small talk, not the crowded rooms. But I’ve noticed I’ll always make time for a game night. It’s a different kind of social. It asks something of you, but it gives something back. It’s shared focus and a common language. You don’t have to be the life of the party. You just have to show up and roll some dice.
Some nights, games are the only reason I see people at all.
I like that there’s a shape to it. An agreed upon start, middle, and end. A little world you all agree to enter together. And for a couple hours, that’s the only world that matters. You’re trying to outwit each other. Or save each other. Or beat the clock. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you spend three hours building something that falls apart in ten minutes and still call it a great night.
I’ve learned things from games, too. About patience. About paying attention. About how different people handle pressure. Some get quiet. Some narrate everything they do. Some are ruthless. Some just want everyone to have a good time. Sometimes I’m all of that.
It’s not just fun, but comfort and focus. It’s the kind of presence I forget I’m craving until I’m in it.
I love that about them. How they pull me out of my head without asking too much.
They’ve never felt like just games.
Ghosts of the Navigator 