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Men...
Not a concept.
Not a theory.
Not a metaphor.
Just a word. A simple, raw word with a single meaning.
I didn't need a dictionary to understand it.
All I had to do was look in the mirror.
Because I was one.
And the very thing I was...
Was the very thing I despised.
I kept my distance from people. Never mingled.
Never joked, never blended in.
My peers? They disgusted me.
Their actions. Their intentions.
Their mindless need to dominate, impress, conquer.
I stayed alone—even in rooms full of laughter.
Even in crowds.
Even among a thousand "men," I stood apart.
Because I was nothing like them.
And yet, I was them.
A paradox I hated waking up to every damn morning.
But here's the twist of fate:
The very thing I hated most...
Ended up being the trigger for my momentum.
Her momentum.
Our momentum!!
I didn't want to say it out loud.
Not even in the silence of my own thoughts.
But somewhere in that cold place I called a heart, I had to admit:
If God hadn't created that ungrateful bastard who hurt her,
She and I might never have crossed paths.
The irony was bitter.
It made me question my logic.
I started thinking...
A father can be nothing more than a sperm donor.
A ghost of a man who disappears before the child even learns to speak.
And yet ...even in his scumbaggery—he serves a purpose.
Because sometimes, the child born out of such shadows
Becomes the one spark needed to light up an empty soul.
That was her.
She was on the edge.
Worn thin. Breaking.
Her first love...
The one she trusted with her fresh, fragile heart—
Instead of holding it with care, he squeezed it too tightly...
Or maybe he let it slip through his fingers.
Either way, her heart was bleeding.
Quietly. Slowly.
What was the only thing a teenage girl in love ever really needs?
Was it love? NO!
Was it money? NO!
Not even promises.
Just one word: Attention.
Real, undivided, unfiltered attention.
And that was what he failed to give her.
While that was what I came in with.
And it opened doors. So many doors.
But I stepped through none.
I wasn't there to rescue her.
I wasn't some knight in shining armor.
I was there for fun. That was my mission.
Yet something strange began to happen.
We started to resonate.
Her wounds met my silence.
Her pain, my comfort.
We found a rhythm.
There were moments...
Dangerous moments—
When I wished that idiot boy wouldn't fix what he broke.
Because for me?
I'm a dragon.
We hoard treasures we don't care about,
Just so no one else can touch them.
And I don't share.
Not my food.
Not my music.
Not even the air in my room.
So when I let her into my space—
That quiet, guarded place—
I didn't want anyone pulling her out of it.
When I was done, she could go.
She could disappear.
But until then?
She stayed.
> Her: "Do you think I'm overthinking all this?"
Me: "No. You're underreacting. He doesn't deserve you."
Her: "Then why do I still miss him so much?"
Me: "Because you're human. And humans are weak."
Her: "you're human too you know"
Me: "Unfortunately."
I gave her what I could.
Honest words. Brutal truths.
And when necessary....silence.
The type of silence that listens without interrupting.
Her relationship became a focal point.
Not because I cared...
But because it was easy. Predictable. Familiar.
And then it ended.
Or so I thought.
She said the words.
Told me it was over.
Claimed she was done.
I wanted to believe her.
Hell, a part of me did believe her.
But somewhere in the cold halls of my mind,
A voice whispered:
"It's never really over when a heart hasn't healed."
So I waited.
Not for love. Not for loyalty.
But for the unraveling.
The next move.
Because I didn't trust men.
Not even myself.
And as expected she lied!
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