Part of being a woman is the slow realization that some men, for no discernible reason, are always going to hate you. And you have no way of knowing who they are until they open their mouths, or open fire.
I want you to hold my hand while we grocery shop. I want you to play with my hair while we watch our favorite tv shows. I want you to kiss me in the middle of my sentence because you wanted to taste my words. I want you to rub my back as we fall asleep. I want you to play my favorite song when I look sad. I want you to do these things without having to think about them. Do them because you love me.