You don't like Clerks like I do.
You don't appreciate AFI like I do.
You don't like Adventure Time as much as I do.
You don't agree with me when I rave about awesome uses of the uncanny.
Speaking of uncanny, you don't like David Lynch movies the way I do.
You definitely didn't love Blue Velvet the way I love it.
You hated that movie.
You don't like crowded public places like I do.
Crowded places give you panic attacks.
A lot of things give you panic attacks.
You're anxious just as much as I am,
but about entirely different things,
and so it's very frustrating.
You like Super Smash Bros.
You like Super Smash Bros. more than you like Street Fighter.
I don't even know if you like Street Fighter at all.
You don't like fitness like I do.
You don't like martial arts like I do.
You don't want to do active things very often.
You don't like the same food I like.
You don't like to cook like I do.
You don't like to do what I like to do in bed.

When you do the things that you do, you do them genuinely and with an impassioned scowl I don't think you'd appreciate if you could see it from the outside.
When you do what you do, you define yourself, and your definition caught me at first -- then waned and does wane -- and catches me now, usually when I'm absolutely certain there's no more left to share.
When you do the things you do, I spectate, never letting on, that I'm entertained so much I want a bowl of popcorn and the lights dimmed.

Agreement means little when you do the things you do.
The similarity we do share is the orb in the heart of our human cellars.
We both know how badly our moms messed up.
I couldn't ask for anything more.

I love you.