I like you.

October 20 6:10pm
(parental advisory. There are bad words).
Kelsey and I road to the hotel in same taxi today; marveled at the beauty of the sunset over the Koutobia minaret while trying to ignore that we were inhaling more exhaust fumes than oxygen.
“Kelsey,” I said, “Do you know what I like about you? And I don’t think you’ll take offense at this, because I don’t mean it to be offensive in the least.”
“What?” she asked, looking out the backseat window.
I turned around in the front seat so I could look at her. “I like that you’re unapologetic about who you are. You’re just like, ‘I like who I am. If you don’t like me, fuck you.’”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I see that in you. And I like it a lot. Do you like yourself?”
“Yeah, I do. I like who I am, I like what I do. I have fun.”
“I can tell. There are some people who you can just tell that they like themselves. Then there are others who you can tell really don’t like themselves.”
“Yeah.”
“So, I hope that’s an accurate description. I like you.”