The Ones That Mother Gives You Don't Do Anything At All

We're watching TV, and this commercial comes on. We both kind of watch in silence -- not so much an awkward kind, but just sort of a simultaneous quiet that seems to make the air around us feel thicker than it maybe needed to be.

As the ad fades into electrons, we sort of sit there - the distance on the couch between us suddenly apparent. The silence now... is different.

       And so, you start to talk.

I'm trying not to be annoyed by the implication. I'm trying to accept things in the spirit you're intending. But it's hard not to feel like you're reacting to the sudden heaviness in the air. It's hard not to feel like things are being said for my benefit, and not from your own concerns.

     ...And so, it kinda bothers me.

It's... You don't understand. You just don't understand. But what's worse is, I don't know how to help you understand. Probably because I don't fully understand your side, either.

You didn't have to say it. I didn't really need you to say anything about it. You shouldn't feel obligated to respond because of me. That's not what this is about. I'm not trying to win anything. If this is where we are... then this is where we are. I'm not going to feel slighted if you don't say anything. I'm not expecting you to be something, or be disappointed if you're not.

             I just want you
                   to be ...you.