Some Things I Like Best About You (And Some Things I Really Don’t)

Things I Like Best About You

Here are some of the things I like best about you. You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. When I see your face, I feel crazy. I feel more in love than I ever thought possible. I think you’re so smart, I think you’re smarter than me. I like how you show me new things, new areas of the city. I like how you take care of me. I like how you take me to dinner and chose where we are going, and pay for me. I like how you notice every part of my appearance; if I do my nails differently, if I fill in my eyebrows or not, if I’m wearing a new lipstick, if I do something new with my hair. I like how you compliment areas of my body I didn’t know were noticeable, like when you say you like how the back of my legs connect to my ass, my soft hands, how the front of my legs look strong, how my shins are the most muscular part of my body. I like how you turn me on just by looking at me. I like how you demand me. I like how you MUST have me. I like where you live. I like sleeping next to you in your bed where you live. I like how you drive, and I like how you pick me up from anywhere I want to go. I like how you make me fight for your attention. I like how you introduce me to new music. I like how you cook for me. I like how you like it when I look good. I like how you make me work for you. And I like how much I want to work for you.

Things I Don’t Like So Much

I don’t like how you play devil’s advocate every time I tell you about a problem. I don’t like how the first time we slept together, you got mad at me for taking my makeup off. I don’t like the games you play. I don’t like how you would refuse to sleep with me to punish me for the terrible things I didn’t know I was doing to you because you wouldn’t tell me. I don’t like how when I would offer to send you nudes, you would say “That’s Ok.” I don’t like how you talked to me. I don’t like how many times you called me a bitch. I don’t like how when I grabbed your hand the night I was crying, you laughed and pulled your hand away. I don’t like what I ended up letting you get away with. I don’t like how you thought you could treat me. I don’t like how you would use situations against me all the time. I don’t like how I could never tell you I was upset with you without you getting mad and turning it around on me. I don’t like how you made me feel like a terrible person when you knew I was trying to be there for you. I don’t like all the car rides we went on together where you were silent, even when I tried to talk to you about things you liked. I don’t like how even after a perfect night together, you wouldn’t kiss me goodbye the next morning just so you could leave me nervous and pining for you. I don’t like how you pretended not to care about me. I don’t like how you acknowledge when you’re cruel, but don’t change anything about yourself to make it better. I don’t like how often you have to apologize. I don’t like how often you refuse to apologize. I don’t like how you told everyone you were heartbroken after I broke up with you, when you know damn well I had no choice but to break up with you —because another thing I don’t like is how the week before I did that, you asked me not to talk to you for 10 days. I don’t like how you treated me like a burden. I don’t like how you said “You could do better” to me a million times. I don’t like how you SUGGESTED I date other people who would tolerate me more, like that wasn’t the most insulting thing in the world given how much I loved you. I don’t like how you made me feel bad about drinking with my friends, or watching porn, or doing anything that didn’t involve you, even if it wasn’t malicious. I don’t like how you considered me oversexed when you wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t like how you used me a scapegoat for your insecurity. I don’t like how you told me that if you killed yourself, it would be my fault. I don’t like how you would be nice one minute, and evil the next and I never knew what I was going to get. I don’t like how when I woke up in your bed in the morning, you would rush me out. I don’t like how right after sex, you would become a distant person who forgot I was there, who forget how in love you were with me just minutes earlier. I don’t like how you were worried about what your friends thought of me. I don’t like that you didn’t like my friends. I don’t like how you acted like I was demanding the world of you, just to treat me like a human being, to show up to something that was important to me, to go out once in a while, to be nice to me on the phone, to text me hello sometimes, to ask me how my day was, to just be normal to me. I don’t like how long I pretended you were being normal when you weren’t. And I don’t like how much time you took from me, time I could have been normal with someone else.