It doesn’t make a difference for me which car you buy he said. She had really liked a black sports car. It surprised her just how much she wanted to drive that car. Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. You never get excited about the things that I like she thought. You don’t care about me. Nothing I say or do interests you. Both were silent the rest of the drive home. He kept looking at her. She wondered why it was so important for her that he liked the same things she did.
She felt resentful. She was always excited and enthusiastic about the things he liked. It’s easy for her to like things. It dawned on her that she expected her partner to be as enthusiastic about everything as she is. She wanted him to do something he couldn’t. She wanted him to be someone he isn’t.
She remembered how he always patiently listened to all her ideas and projects. Never interrupting her. Giving her the space to be as excited and enthusiastic as she needed to be. She had always given him what she wanted. She had never actually asked him what he needed. Anything she was doing for him was really for her, hoping that she would get the same back. That’s where the resentment came from. She felt cheated. Like he didn’t hold up his end of a bargain that they never made.

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