I do not like how you’d typically fall asleep in the middle of a conversation.
Come to think of it, you’ve never really said ‘good night’.
I do not like how you used to begin with just ‘hi’.
It really felt like you wanted me to get the ball rolling instead of you.
I do not like how you’d suddenly laugh when I tell you something not funny.
Comedy is not my strongest suit, remember?
I do not like how fiercely relentless you are.
Good thing I’m simply more bullheaded than you.
I do not like how we sometimes stop at ‘okay’ and ‘ok’.
They’re painfully protracted ellipses.
I do not like how my gut flips over whenever you say something honest or kind.
More so when your concessions make me feel like I’ve wronged you somehow.
I do not like how you make it that much harder to stop.
You appear to have a formidable talent for finding those minute cracks and crevices.
I do not like how disjointed I feel during those times when you do step down for a while and let me have my way.
And I absolutely do not like how you make me smile everytime you come back around and prove
That after everything, after all that, you never actually did listen to me.