Is this the hill you want to die on?
No.
It’s not worth the fight, not worth the fires.
And so it happens, one cedes the little acts intended as signs of love; actions and efforts met in critique, in criticism, but never recognized in compliment.
One’s actions are repelled. One respects the strong defense. One leaves alone.
It’s not worth the fight. Disengage.
One honors the repulse and then, one day, other wonders why they stop.
The surest way to survive a fight is to never come under fire.
Tired of harassments, effective or only threatening fires, one avoids and leaves alone.
No man’s land, dead space, where only love was meant.