I could fight with inanimate objects and still lose. Badly. A perfect testimony to show how weak I am.
No, no. You're a strong warrior, he will always say.
Love is inanimate. A shapeless concept we try to grasp, conjured by broken humans. Love is a silhouette of a demon we see when we're wrought with paranoia.
Love is inanimate, and unconquerable. Yet when manipulated, comes alive under your command and burns with a ferocity. Teeming with life, love strengthens me.
You're never weak, he says. We're never weak.