LOST FOCUS

 

People said Kude was focused.
He liked it that way.

To him, focus meant silence around his decisions, silence around emotions he did not want to manage, and silence from people who expected more from him than he was willing to give.

Kude believed feelings were inconvenient. Not feelings in general; just the ones that came from others when they became complicated.

He dated women, but he did it like someone selecting useful arrangements for a life already planned. If a woman had money, he stayed close. If she was kind and emotionally available, he enjoyed the comfort without asking himself whether he was giving the same back.

He liked being treated well.
Like a king sitting quietly in a palace he never built.

He expected respect, attention, and small sacrifices — the kind people make when they care about someone. But when a woman tried to express what she felt, Kude's expression changed.

He would listen without really listening.
Then he would say her feelings were starting to interfere with his future.

“I have plans,” he would say. “I cannot allow emotional pressure to slow me down.”
The women who stayed a little longer learned something about him.

Kude did not believe in balancing love. He believed in protecting his own path first, second, and always.

If a woman needed reassurance, he called it insecurity.
If she asked for effort, he called it control.
If she spoke about her feelings, he saw it as a threat to his independence.

He never thought of himself as cruel.
In his mind, he was simply honest and practical.

The truth was that Kude did not hate women.
He needed them in the way people need comfort, food or warm rooms during cold nights.
Something pleasant to have nearby, but not something that should demand too much from him.

When a relationship began to ask for emotional fairness, Kude slowly withdrew.
Not with arguments.
Just with less time.
Shorter replies.
More excuses about being busy.
Because Kude believed ambition and love could not sit at the same table.

Eventually, the women left.

Some left quietly after realizing they were tired of giving more than they received. Others left after trying to speak one more time and hearing the same answer wrapped in different words.

Kude continued walking alone.
He told himself that relationships were distractions unless they served his goals.

Sometimes, late at night, when the house was quiet and his phone was silent, he wondered why the people who once called him king never stayed long enough to bow again.

But he quickly pushed the thought away.
He told himself that emotions were weaknesses, and weakness was something he could not afford.

So Kude kept walking, proud, focused, and alone, believing he was building a great future, not realizing that he had also built it with a kind of loneliness he had learned to call strength.