Boy informed me yesterday that he likes me, sometimes, and sometimes he doesn't. But he doesn't love me. Because love means you really, really, really like someone, and he can't really, really, really like me when he sometimes doesn't like me.
I have suggested an alternate definition of love, one that is not necessarily incompatible with occasional dislike. He disagrees.
I got my mother's day card today. He has written: Lik(e) you.
The full intended message, which he didn't get finished, was:
Dear mum,
I like you and I don't like you. I don't love you.
Happy Mother's Day!
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