Y. You Don’t Even Know Me
The experts say if you fight a lot with somebody that’s a good thing. Fighting means you care. If you didn’t fight with them, you’d just let them go off to ruin their lives and maybe even go off to die and it’d not even bother you.
When I’m fighting with someone, I like to throw out that famous line you used on me once.
“You don’t even know me,” I’ll say with disgust.
It’s mostly just a test to see whether or not they explode. If they go on a tirade, I’ll know they care.
“What are you fucking talking about? Of course I know you! Maybe I can’t tell you what you are thinking right now or list off 100 random facts about you off the top of my head, but Jesus Fucking Christ, I know you!
“Don’t ask me how I know you, I just fucking know you! I know you like I know how to breathe. I can’t tell you you how my lungs work or why my brain does whatever the hell it does to make my lungs work, Jesus, I can’t even tell you how or why I am even alive as a human being talking to you right now!
“Can you understand that? You are an instinct, a part of me I just can’t explain, and so sure, maybe I don’t have an advanced degree or all the koala-fications here, but how the hell can you stand there and say I don’t fucking know you?”
They’ll take a pause, and then stare at me while I just sit there silently.
Maybe they’ll sit down, and they’ll light up a cigarette.
And then they stand back up and they start right back at it again. “Why can’t you just trust that I just know you?”
There is something strangely warming about seeing someone pissed off in their defense for whether or not they know you.
It’s a good way to know whether it’s something worth fighting for.
Just to clarify, they don’t have to exactly say it all like that. But they are definitely getting bonus points if they say koala-fications.
This post is part of the flash fiction series, By the Letter.