There is some kind of selfish pride in hearing the words, "My [title]." To claim enough association with me and to not be embarrassed or remorseful sounds like a setup for ulterior motives. Walk me down a dark hallway and at least I'd understand your intention. But stay proud of me? Wild. Absolute chaos fodder. It's like admitting you actually enjoy self-flagellation. "I enjoy the company of a man who I can't take to parties because he'll find a way to quietly ruin the night while stowed away in some random third floor bathroom." Maybe it sounds good on paper. Maybe it feels good. However, even if I am significantly more tolerable than I was in the previous months, I still can point out the most relieving strat would be not to find yourself being that close to me. An ego boost is only enjoyed for the moment, because the next is regret. Bypass the current input and run command on an emotional exit function.
