Yeah, it seemed like it was that kind of thing. The wistful ex kind of thing. I'm familiar with it. I've never been in those exact shoes, but I've been in the same kind of shoes. Ones that... fit the same? Maybe? I'm not really sure how to continue the shoes metaphor, frankly, so I'm going to abandon it.

"I can understand that," I say. "I'd probably freak out if I saw you kissing someone else. Heck, we already know there's a non-zero chance of me freaking out when it is me, so. But definitely if it was someone else, which, um. I'd like us not to be doing that? Not that I think you're doing that, but maybe we could officially not be doing that?"