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Women like to tell me that I'm too emotional,
and then to turn around and tell me how much they love me for it. They like to walk away from me when I'm crying, rather than to hold me until the end of my sobs. But they love to be kept warmly in my arms, and to say they love me, while I hold them safe. They like to slap me and yell at how I've betrayed them because I refused to support their view, but to bury their head in my chest three months later when they agree that I was right to stand in their way and not support them, and that they were doing someting wrong. |