You have hurt me, I say.

"You don't love me," You fire back.

I need physical reassurance, I cry
"So you don't need me. I'm not good enough," You counter.

I'm sad, I sigh.
"I can't make you happy so I'm going to kill myself. I should've died a long time ago," you shout.

Don't put your hand there, I push.
"You don't want me to ever touch you," You recoil.

Every time I am hurt, it always circles back to you. If the fight was started by you, you end it by playing suicidal victim. If it is "my fault" you disappear from me physically and emotionally. You refuse to talk to me or let me touch you. You put up cement brick after cement brick while staring me down from inside the infrastructure. When you are upset first I am wiping your eyes like windshield wipers through my tears. When I build up my emotions to the rare point of anger, you dig us a deeper hole to be buried in.

I rarely speak my mind anymore. Because you say I complain too much. I ask too much of you. I want too many things you do not. I am not allowed to dream of my future if you do not see my desires in yours.

I do not want to do the things you want. Things that include the removal of clothes in a car outside my home. Lust was your "epiphany" of love. You always said "sex is the most love you can give someone," and "there are movies about it." I want to say "yes there are, but in the movies both partners enjoy it. I do not enjoy it." And "I wish you would love me in other ways that weren't just physical. Love notes, being shown off to your friends and family, and being excited to share your highlights of your day are what I think are the highest points of love."

My friends and their partners like to tease on our group dates. You are first and only to play baby and get emotionally hurt. None of the jokes are personally and everyone else knows they are lighthearted. You can dish them out as well but you can't take the punchline boomerang returning. You refuse to hold my hand after, and make snide remarks at my expense that have me looking back to make sure my friend and her date didn't hear.

The feeling you give me is like slamming the gas pedal at a red light.