Darling? Oh, Darling. Darlin' dear. There's so much I need to say. So much, to say to you.
I speak to you, out loud, all the time when you're not around. Things I need to say, things I need to get out of me. Things no woman should ever have to hear. Things I say to the air. To empty rooms. To restroom stalls, to shopping mall parking lots. To the empty space leaning out over cliffs, over edges of buildings' roofs. To you.
Sweetums. Honey-butt. Lippy. Blee-blee. Sweet-o. Sweetie doodle.
I speak my sickening sweetnesses and endearments out into the emptiness. I get it out of me that way, so you won't be forced to hear me babble on to you in my love-fuddled ga-ga ya-ya talk. No woman should be forced to hear her man go on about her like that! How is a woman supposed to respect her man as a man, when he's gabbling on all the time like a mush-mouthed baby-talking goo-goo FOOL?
Well, I'm a fool for you, baby. It's the truth, and I'm not ashamed of that. But I do do my best to bleed off the excess, while you're not around. It's a matter of self-respect as much as anything else.
Baby. Wigglekins. Cutey-nose!