00:00She noticed the man before she noticed the t-shirt. He was leaning against his motorbike,
00:05sipping coffee from a paper cup, staring into nothing. And then she saw it, bold letters across
00:11his back. Sorry, princess, I only date women who can break my leg. Or maybe it was, who might stab
00:19me. Either way, the message stung. She paused. Not because she was afraid, but because she felt
00:26sad. That shirt wasn't strength. That was a wound talking. A man's armor made of sarcasm and steel,
00:36hiding a heart that no longer believed in softness. She didn't know his story, but she knew the tone,
00:42the language of pain that says, I don't trust kindness anymore. The voice that whispers,
00:49I don't deserve love unless it hurts. She thought of all the people, men especially, who were taught
00:55that tenderness made them weak. That being held was suspicious. That gentleness had to be earned
01:01with suffering. That softness is only safe when you control it. And for a moment, she wished he
01:09could see what she saw. That softness is not the opposite of strength. It's the place where strength
01:15finally learns to rest. So she whispered quietly to no one in particular,
01:19may you meet someone who shows you softness is safe again.
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