I know you love me.
You tell me every day,
And I reciprocate.
I show no hesitation of your affection.

But sometimes I wonder how it could be better.
I guess this is where complacency wins the war of progression.

Do I question your level of support for my own individual self?
Sure.
Do I shame you for voting for Tr*mp, for being homophobic, for ******* on my meat-free diet, for ridding me of freedoms most feel at my age, for the constant arguing?
Of course.
Do I do my best to make you an open minded person who thinks on their own?
Yes, incredibly hard, to the point of mental exhaustion.
Do I still love you?
Yeah, but it’s hard sometimes.
Is it supposed to be hard?
I’m not sure.

I think we spend too much time together.
I think I will value your love more as it continues to grow scarce.

Ouch.