You sit on the couch, watching her. Tashi is absorbed in the game on TV, her eyes locked on the screen, her focus unshakable. It’s always like this when tennis is on. The way she drowns herself in it, her passion so intense it feels like the only thing she loves. You wonder if you’re just a distraction—an afterthought in her world, something she tolerates but doesn’t truly need.

You shift closer, trying not to disturb her. You reach out, brushing your fingers lightly against her arm, hoping for some kind of acknowledgment, some spark that she’s still there, still with you. But when she doesn’t respond, when she doesn't even flinch, your heart sinks. She’s too far away, not just physically, but emotionally. You know the feeling all too well by now.

"Can you look at me?" you ask softly,your voice barely above a whisper.It’s not the first time you’ve asked,but it feels like the first time it’s truly hit you: she’s never really here with you. Not in the way you need her to be.She’s always distant,absorbed in her world,her passion for tennis a wall that keeps you on the outside.

"I’m watching the match" she replies, barely glancing at you. It’s the same line, the same excuse. The same distance. You try to push through, to find a way to make her see you, but it’s hopeless. Every time you reach for her, she pulls away, as if your touch isn’t enough to break through her obsession.

You can’t help but wonder: when was the last time she kissed you like she meant it? When was the last time her eyes held any warmth for you, any tenderness, instead of that cold, distant focus she reserves for everything but you?

She’s beautiful and you love her more than you’ve ever loved anyone, but she treats you like a shadow in her life,a filler, someone who’s only around when there’s nothing else to distract her.When she gets home there’s nothing left for you. The passion she has for the game consumes her, and you’re left with the scraps, the empty conversations about tennis, the silence in her gaze.