You don't bring me flowers anymore.

All this time I've known you...thanks...thanks for not telling me you had it. All the times we've been together. Just yesterday we drank out of the same extreme can of Mountain Dew. No wonder you're so obsessive about washing your hands up to the elbows. We experienced some pretty contagious laughs, you know (pardon the pun--how insensitive of me). I thought we were close. I thought we could talk about anything, but I was so wrong. I know I gave it to you, but we could have been more open about it. You have made a fool of me. Why? Why didn't you tell me that you knew that I knew that you knew I gave you the creeps?