I’ll say it one last time, in case you didn’t hear me before. I hate to have to point it out to you, but you’re terribly self-absorbed and always have been. You often say that you’re listening even when you aren’t. You think that what I’m saying is totally unimportant, so you just nod your head and agree with me and you don’t feel that you’ve lost anything when you haven’t heard what I’ve said. It just makes it easier for you to ignore me if you pretend that you’re listening.

It’s gotten to the point that I imagine I can actually see cotton in your ears. I imagine actual physical impediments to your hearing. There are little brick walls inside your earlobes. I think I might be making some sort of apology for you. My mind is trying to find a reason why you can’t hear anything. I don’t want it to just be your obstinacy, or your ego, or your low esteem for me. I know that you don’t want to hear me, but I refuse to believe it.

So what I’m asking is that you not tell me you can’t hear me. Don’t bother, because I don’t believe you. Or at least, I’m trying not to believe you. It makes me feel like I’m being fooled or taken advantage of. So I’m trying not to believe you anymore.

And what I’m saying for the last time is that I’m going to be quiet now. And you’ll wonder what’s happened and why I’m so quiet. You won’t understand because I’ve said it for the last time and you weren’t listening. But you won’t hear another peep out of me.