Im happy, you’re all over the place. Sometimes great, terrible, mad, sweet, or just indifferent. You say you hate me, but then you say you never mean it. Just don’t say it then. It would make me feel a lot better. I’m happy, and I’d like to think you are too. I want to spend a long time with you, and I do really like you a lot. Just this consistency is hard to deal with sometimes.