And this I wrote tonight. If you know me personally or have read my personal blog, you may guess my thought process behind it. It was just what came when I tried to write something, so try not to judge me for thinking about it too much.

“You don’t actually care about me.”

“Oh come on, don’t say that.”

“No, I’m serious. You really don’t care about me.”

He exhaled disbelievingly. “Why won’t you believe me? You're amazing.”

“No, I believe that…I believe that you enjoy being with me, and you think I’m amazing. But that’s the problem; that’s all it is.”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighed, and stared hard at the ground, weighing whether or not she should hurt his feelings. When she glanced at him, she could see that he was gazing at her, leaning in with attention. That decided it.

“It’s like this,” she spun to face him. “You are lonely. You like for people to listen to you. You want to feel strong and respected. And I have this terrible habit of humoring boring people. I’m not saying I am dying of the tedium when you tell me about work and stuff, I’m just saying that a lot of other people would not sit and listen to you talk about things that you know all about and that they know nothing about. That makes you feel interesting, for one thing, because I listen, and smart for another thing because you know so much more about it than I do. And, interestingly enough, that also makes you feel really good – cared about even. And you want to keep feeling like that, so you want to keep me around. You like being with me not because of who I am, but because how I make you feel about yourself. I’m not saying there’s something wrong with that, but it has to fit into the right place. You need to feel good about yourself -- feel smart and interesting and worth caring about – all on your own, without your ex, without me, without anyone but you and the Lord. I can’t provide that for you. I can’t cater to your neediness just because I like to help people. And you can’t like me just because I fill certain needs that you should be taking care of yourself. Does any of that make sense?”

He was silent for a long moment. “Yeah.”

“Look, I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. This is something everyone has to learn. I’m still learning it myself, but because I see it in this case, I have to put a stop to it. I can’t keep you from liking me, but I can be straightforward with you and do what I can to help you get your facts straight. I can’t just stand by and let you like me for dumb reasons without saying anything.”

He gave her a sharp, sly look. “It didn’t stop you the first time.”

She shot him a look of disgusted incredulity. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Well it’s true! It’s not like I’m not all of a sudden a different person now.”

“And what if I’m a different person now? I told you, I told you that I’m still learning this. What if I learned it because of you, huh? What if I was lonely and bored and needy myself when I met you, and now I wish I had known then what I know now? What if I wish I knew better than to rely on you, of all people?”

“Why does everyone think I’m the ENEMY?” he leapt to his feet.

“I never SAID you were the enemy! All I said was that you were stupid and needed, for Pete’s sake, to GROW UP!”

He leaned in and stabbed his finger at the air in front of her face. “You are not my mother.”

Slap. “You’re right. She’s entirely too nice to you.”