Running short of virtue

I really don't know what you're thinking, and I definitely don't like it. Your strained efforts of nicety is so vivid and raw, it sickens me. Stop. Your politeness sounds so rehearsed, in hopes for a decent peaceful exchange. Cut the crap and go straight to the point, just tell me what you want. Stop. Don't ask me if I'm alright, don't ask me if I'm angry, and lastly, don't ask me if I love you. This is a tactic you oh-so-infamously use all the time. You're so rehearsed, you're so predictable.

You and I both know the response you get will never be precisely what I'm feeling, so quit it. I'm sorry, but the older I get, the more professional this relationship is getting.

You asked if I'm alright, well honey I'm not. I'm sick and I'm tired and I'm just about done.
You asked if I'm angry, well no I will never be. It takes a lot of energy to be angry, irritated and pissed.
You asked if I love you, well dearest I do, because if I didn't God knows I'd go because I'm nowhere near willing to stick around much longer.

So did you get this from me today, love? No.

Daddy dearest, you can't have things your way all the time. Nothing's perfect. No one's perfect. So shush, don't expect me to be perfect.

I'm tolerating you.