Lately, I’ve been thinking that relationships are a kind of duel - soft, warm, almost playful. We don’t hurt each other - we play to lose. We push with glances, argue with hands, tease with words - not to wound, but to get closer.
You look at me with irony, as if you know winning isn't the point. I look at you with warmth and tenderness.
Your jokes sting without leaving scars. Mine... sometimes they annoy you.
This game isn't about power - it’s about who’ll yield first. Who won’t be afraid to be weak.
I wish you’d become my Main Game.
The only one I’d happily lose again and again.
Or win - only together.
