Posts

If I Become a Footnote

-
Image
The thought of not gaming with her makes me sad. The thought of never talking to her again… that one hits a little deeper. And the way I see it, I’ve got two options. I can be the man she enjoys gaming with. The one who brings her a little peace. A little escape. Or… I can be the man who walks away. And then nobody gets anything. Because that’s the part people don’t talk about. Walking away isn’t always strength. Sometimes it’s just… loss. For both sides. And yeah, I could leave. I could choose myself in the most literal sense. Create distance. Cut it off. Move on. But when I think about it… When I think about how much she enjoys gaming with me… how it makes her happy… That matters. That actually matters. Because after everything she’s been through… If I can just be someone who doesn’t add to that weight, someone who doesn’t complicate things, someone who just shows up and makes things a little lighter… then maybe that’s enough. Not everything has to turn into something mor...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Moment It Changes

-
Image
There’s a moment where things change. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just… quietly. And once it happens, there’s no going back to what it was before. It’s hard knowing she only wants to be gaming friends. But it’s harder knowing she knows how I feel. Because now everything has this unspoken layer over it. Now it’s not just me pretending. It’s both of us. I have to act like I don’t feel what I feel. And she has to act like she doesn’t know that I do. She has to keep me at a distance. Keep things contained. Keep it from becoming anything more than what she already decided it is. Even if she doesn’t say it out loud… it’s there. You can feel it. And that’s the part that sucks. Because I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t. If anything, I wanted to protect what we had. And yeah… there’s a part of me that wants to say “I’m sorry.” But for what? For recognizing something real? For seeing her for who she is and wanting more than just passing time in a lobby? That doesn’t feel lik...
Post a Comment
Read more

3:51 A.M. — The Cost of Letting Someone In

-
Image
It’s 3:51 a.m. and I’m up thinking about a version of events that doesn’t exist anymore. The version where I kept my distance. Where I didn’t let the door open. Where I didn’t let myself start imagining what “more” could look like. Because once that door opens, even just a crack, your mind doesn’t walk through it… it sprints. We spent hours gaming together. Talking. Laughing. Just existing in that space where things feel easy. Natural. And people like to pretend that doesn’t mean anything. But it does. You don’t spend that kind of time with someone and not start to see them. Not just their habits, but who they are underneath all of it. And she’s a good person. A genuinely good person. That’s what makes this worse. Because now I’m stuck trying to reconcile two things that don’t coexist cleanly: I don’t just want to game with her. But gaming is all this is allowed to be. And now comes the part nobody wants to say out loud. How am I supposed to pretend I don’t want more? How a...
Post a Comment
Read more

Probability of Fate

-
Image
There are nights when the universe feels like math, cold branches splitting into quieter branches, numbers pretending they know tomorrow. And then something slips the equation. A signal. A flicker. A voice arriving where no forecast placed it. Kismet drifts in like static, soft as a glitch no engineer can recreate, a coincidence wearing intention like perfume. Destiny does not knock. It hums. It waits in the spaces between decisions, in the pause before a message is opened, in the breath held too long before replying. Serendipity laughs at certainty, threads silver through chaos, makes strangers feel familiar as if memory traveled backward to meet them. Maybe fate is not a road but a probability, bright and fragile, a branch lit neon against dark data, beautiful because it might collapse. Two signals orbiting. Two players waiting in separate worlds. Neither promised, neither guaranteed, yet somehow aligned for a moment long enough to ask a dangerous question: Was this chanc...
Post a Comment
Read more

PLAYER TWO: A Probability Engine Story

-
Image
Chapter One — Neon Weather The city never slept, it only buffered. Rain hissed against chrome rooftops while neon advertisements washed the streets in restless color. Every building glowed like a circuit board humming beneath dark clouds. Somewhere high above, giant holographic foxes flickered across billboards, dissolving and reforming in electric static before vanishing into the storm. He worked inside a tower of glass and code, a risk assessment analyst for an insurance conglomerate that sold certainty in a world built on chaos. His tool was a probability engine. Inside it, he could step through branching futures like walking through a forest of light. Every decision split into thousands of outcomes, each branch shimmering with percentages, consequences, and collapse. Most people trusted instincts. He trusted models. He spent his days predicting disaster. And his nights trying to forget it. When he got home, he slipped into a different world. A game. A battlefield. A digital place w...
Post a Comment
Read more

A poem called: Nobody, Quietly

-
Image
Nobody, Quietly I’m a nobody moving through a world that keeps mistaking noise for proof of life. Everyone’s shouting their names into rooms full of mirrors, begging for an echo and calling it connection. I used to think I was late. Behind. Missing something everyone else learned early. But the truth is quieter than that. I watched people trade honesty for comfort. Depth for speed. Presence for performance. I watched them touch each other without ever arriving. And somewhere in that watching, I stepped out of line. Not dramatic. Not brave. Just… still. I didn’t become less. I became exact. I stopped pretending wanting was enough. Stopped pretending closeness happens by accident. Stopped mistaking attention for care. Now I feel everything slower. Heavier. Cleaner. Loneliness doesn’t scream here. It hums. It sharpens you. Strips you down until there’s nothing left that doesn’t belong. So yes— I’m a nobody. Not erased. Not invisible. Just unwilling to lie to myself to make the...
Post a Comment
Read more

Probably Staying In

-
Image
There’s a particular kind of almost-relationship that doesn’t explode or collapse. It just quietly unravels while you’re still trying to convince yourself it’s being woven. This was one of those. It didn’t start with intensity. It started with ease. Conversation that didn’t feel forced. Laughter that came naturally. A vibe that made time pass quicker than expected. The kind of energy that doesn’t demand attention but holds it anyway. Being around her felt light. Comfortable. Real. That mattered. Because when you actually like someone — not just the idea of them, not just their looks — you want to be fair to them. You want to assume good intent. You don’t want to project past disappointments onto a new person who hasn’t done anything wrong yet. So you give grace before suspicion. Patience before judgment. Benefit of the doubt before conclusions. Over the first couple of weeks, we talked when we saw each other. Sometimes we spent time together without labeling it. Nothing dra...
Post a Comment
Read more