Knife

You are a fork .
You are a very important utensil in a person's dining room; whenever something comes along, it's the fork. You've often been picked up, crumpled, gnawed on, eaten from, and used. Whether it's to cut a cutlet with a fork, to spear a vegetable with a clove, or even to hold noodles.
You were a delicate and fragile object, but always in the main active role. Even when wrapping noodles, your partner just had to insure that the dish didn't fall off you. Tired of it!
And then, as if the chandelier in the shape of the setting sun had heard you and given you a signal, you noticed the glint of metal behind the seat next to you. There was a newly purchased, sharp knife, which lured you in.
You noticed him getting closer and closer to you. First—at the end of the table, then across from you, then in the service of one person! It was just New Year's Eve, when people hadn't seen your life's devices or feelings like love.
At first, they only took advantage of you. It was a pleasure for you to show off your usefulness to someone for the first time, to show off your usefulness to this young man. And then things started to get more interesting...
The turkey that was served to your mutual guest needed to be carved, but he did it strangely, combining two utensils, you and the object of your affection. He slid the knife into one of the gaps between the tines, which reverberated throughout your entire body... This was the first intimacy without getting to know each other and using it, but simply from misuse.
Much hotter you heard something coming from this knife and a quiet clang:
“You are different, madam,” he rang out and added:
—Are you introducing me?