Divino Castigo

Love is the only sport where no one warns you that the final can be without medals, but with bruises on your heart. At first, it all seems like a game - a little flirting, a little pride, a little hope for a rematch. And then you suddenly realise: you're tired of playing, and the scoreboard still doesn't show the winner. Here, the pain doesn't scream, but exhales a quiet "sorry" through clenched teeth. There's more truth in that word than in all the promises put together. True courage isn't holding on, but letting go, even with a slight smirk: let someone else try to withstand the same height and the same fall now. The sweet poison of resentment, a little karma, and a tango with your own dignity - it sounds beautiful, but it tastes perfectly bitter.