...or not at all

I’ve doubted you for a number of reasons.  

We could argue the validity of my feelings, but I don’t see a point, do you?

We’ve sniped so much that it’s fruitless to continue arguing.   My feelings don’t mean enough to you for you to change the way you interact with me.

You don’t care the way I want and need you to care.

It’s not right to force you to care my way, though, is it?

Friendship is pregnant and fruitful, not unlike flowers overspilling their beds in early August.  Rich, nurturing, beautiful—that’s my concept of friendship.

It’s not your definition--or at least it's not been my experience of your definition. 

You call when you have time—and yes, I grudgingly admit you find time for me between meetings or ridiculously early in the morning before the birds have even considered warming up their beaks to announce dawn.  I don’t want to be an extra, a side dish, filler.  I’m not someone to call when you’re stuck in traffic, bored.

I need someone who will be there for me regardless of his schedule.

To accept anything less cheats me; I’ve allowed myself to be cheated in the past, and all I gained was emptiness.

I need you now on different terms other than what you seem willing to offer…or not at all.