One stone at a time

I know a man that wears his emptiness like an elbow patch. I was convinced that each of my texted compliments would have the weight of a stone returning to fill up his quarry of sadness.

The  amount of the words..., telling him how sexy he was ,., how smart he was, how good he was.., how accomplished he was..,,  negated the believing of them

I liberated myself of the practice and our communication drastically improved