I don't care.
It took me a moment. I was staring at him with a blankness that I could tell was confusing. "What?" he asked, looking concerned at me. But I didn't know. I didn't know what I was thinking, so I didn't know what to say. I just stared at him until an insignificant drip from the sink caught my attention. Turning off the sink. That seemed interesting. Important. And that's when I realized: I'd spent so much time--so much thought--caring. I'd done it for so long and in so many ways that I'd forgotten what it felt like to not care. But in that moment I realized I didn't. I didn't care. I looked at him....and I didn't care anymore.