Sometimes you make me second guess myself. Strange because it’s nothing more than what it is, which isn’t much at all, depending. I get flustered because I can’t tell if I’m annoying you or not, which does seem unlikely anyway. I simply enjoy the company and banter. Then I realise I don’t really care what you think (most of the time). You don’t really judge either way, anyway. It’s just weird that you get inside sometimes without my knowing. Sneaky-sneaky, you dickwad.