Once, you said, “I want to win, but I don’t want you to lose.”
But tonight, when the city goes dark and our armies of ambition sleep, I will think of you. The only worthy opponent. The only soul who sees me clearly and still chooses to duel. my dearest nemesis
We fight like lovers and plan like thieves. You steal my calm; I crack your armor. In every boardroom, every chess match, every midnight argument on a rain-soaked balcony—you push, and I refuse to break. It’s the only dance either of us knows. The music is a blade. The floor is a promise. Once, you said, “I want to win, but
You were the first to notice me.
Not in the way others did—glancing over, scanning for threat or use. You looked . You took a seat across the café, folded your hands, and smiled like we had already met in a dozen different lifetimes. Each one ended badly. Each one was worth it. We fight like lovers and plan like thieves
So no, I will never let you win easily. And you would despise me if I did.
That was the moment I knew. Not love—something rawer. Something that doesn’t need a name. You are the fire I set myself against to stay sharp. You are the flaw in my mirror that keeps me honest.