When you tell me that you love me, it hurts.
I don’t know what that means. I know what I see, and let me tell you, it’s not consistent.
You say you love me, but say “He’s gone off the rails, he’s not welcome in our family any more.”
You say you love me, but you don’t care about my developing views of the world unless they’re in line with yours.
You say you love me, but are never accountable to our relationship. Or any relationship for that matter.
You say you love me, but say “you need to accept me for who I am, I can’t treat you better. I can’t change.”
You say you love me, but forget about me unless you need attention.
You say you love me, but threaten to call the police if I don’t respond for a week.
You say you love me. That isn’t love.