game of love;

he never dreamed. for him, dreaming is a shame, and dreaming is just for kids. it's childish and tiring.

yet he never imagined himself dreaming for the first time— he never imagined himself being stuck in a dream; that is knowing the boy's name he just met through a colleague. just like from the movies he had watched, the novels he had read, the stories he had heard— it is the same, the same slow motion and blurriness of the surrounding; making the two of them being the center of his eyes, making the boy he just met being the center of his eyes. lovely sight, indeed.

as childish and tiring as it may sound— he tries his best to know the boy's name, shoot his shot. childish as he chases around like playing hide and seek; tiring as he gets exhausted from all the chase and run he does, yet he is not complaining— loving it rather. days passed by like a sand of time being turned upside down and in a pinch of sand, after the said childish play he went through chasing the boy, he finally knew his name; oh, finally! i can now call him by his name— sun. he thought he'd never get the sweet name of sun, for he is elusive.

and he never knew what he had done; why did he even chase just for his name? just for the name? each day he comes to a realization— i thought, love is just a game that children play. the bow and arrow has come to play with him— for the both of them. the game of love plays with them, who will survive?

love really isn't a children's play but more of a survival game; who will lose as one of them gets tired and slowly lets go of the rope that connects them, a tug of love. who will lose as one of them gets tired of seeking the love and care he deserves and as one of them gets tired of hiding the truth, a hide and seek of lies and truths. and who will win as one of them gets the white flag, a sign for surrendering the failed story they have made, capture the flag; love really is a game you wouldn't dare to play.