grandeur; no wonder you were named after a king.

You know, it suddenly occurred to me how very strange it is that you can be my favourite and least favourable person at the same time. So here’s a face-off: For one, you never give me any leeway in an argument; embarrassing me with your merciless words, eventhough I’m only but a defenseless “sor mui”. It is at moments like these that I wish the hardest to be at your side, so that I can present you with a fatal glare and the grand title of “son of a bitch”, only to remember that I love your Mother. Maybe I’d be temporarily satisfied with a slap across your cheek, to which of course, you’d unhesitantly return the favour.

Unlike the rest of the population, you’ve never offered a single compliment, other than that one magical night where you inexplicably said, “stay cute”, only to go offline immediately so that it’s as if the moment never happened.

You’re so good at keeping everything to yourself (feelings, thoughts, problems), that I have to admit it quite impresses me. Sometimes it feels like I know more about you than your best friend of 7 years does, and that’s only because I know your Mother.
Treat everyone the way you treat me, and I am certain you will make quite a fine lawyer indeed.

You have such an immense population of girl friends, one of which I’ve personally witnessed you exchanging oral respiratory breath with, that it’s hard not to imagine what else you are capable of doing when no one’s looking.
You are so bluntly, harshly honest, that sometimes it leaves me hoping you’d lie.
And you, you are one stubborn stubborn cow.

Yet I find it all very interesting. How these very despicable traits you possess, are inevitably the very reasons that attract me. The cause of my curiosity, and my desire to crudely intrude your space to gently prod and remind you of my existence. To be fascinated by how very little interest you have for me. And to unflatteringly stumble backwards, with a silly wide grin on my face; ever so surprised, when once in a blue moon, you reward me with a well-camouflaged sentiment -
One that hints that maybe beneath all that façade of huge-man-ego, you do care about me a little.