Cinnamon and Sandalwood

There was a thing on Facebook once (don’t judge me, Facebook has the best memes and quotes) that said:

Don’t worry when I fight with you, worry when I stop. Because when I stop, it means there’s nothing left for me to fight for.

It’s true. If I think you’re worth it, I will fight to the death for you. I will argue. I will piss you off. I will give you the full force of all the passion inside me. But I do it because I care about you.

It might frustrate you, but you’ll need to realize that I’m doing it because I think you’re worth it. A woman that doesn’t care anymore, will no longer fight and argue with you. She will shrug her shoulders.

A woman that fights with you, is a woman that is down for you. If you elicit that kind of passion in a woman, it’s because you fucking matter to her. She wants you to stay.

We are fueled by our emotions and our passion. To most of us, love is always worth fighting for. But we can’t be the only ones fighting for it.

Show us you care. Fight for us, too. Don’t become complacent. Show us we’re worth the fucking fight, too.

I’m not nagging you about shit because I fucking enjoy nagging. I don’t. I’m nagging because I want you to show me that you give a shit. I want you to give me a return on some of the fight I’ve given for you.

If I try to walk away, it’s likely not because I really want to, it’s because I want you to grab my fucking arm and say, “You’re not fucking going anywhere, bitch. I’m not fucking done with you.”

If you’re done with me, tell me you’re done with me. If you aren’t…then fucking fight for me. Fight for me, like I’ll fight for you. Because I will. No one will ever be as down for you as I will be. I’ll be standing in the ring with you, ready to tag team. Us against the fucking world. We will be a force to be reckoned with.

But show me that you don’t think I’m worth fighting for…and when I walk away, I won’t ever look back. Nothing you can do will ever bring me back. When I’m done…I’m done.

Be the reason I’m fighting. Not the reason I’m walking away.

Rocket Queen, The Ritz, 1988