You tell me you love me and you give me all these charming, prestine compliments. It feels that I am worth so much in your life, perhaps top six. It maybe you're putting it on because you have a heart of gold. But I don't know, you're not one up there, I love you and all but I don't have the heart to tell you to lay off. I mean, how could I even have the heart to not love you equally in return?