I'm a Fighter Because I'm a Lover

I know that I'm a fighter, a scrapper even. Not physically - I've never been in a "real" fistfight (I'm not counting the pushy-shovy stuff with my kid brother when we were little). But I'll debate you 'til one of us runs out of air. And if I think someone is hurting, disrespecting or taking advantage of someone I love, I'll jump to my loved one's defense like a mama bear. Sometimes, I argue for fun. I have one friend in particular who particularly enjoys this, too, and we have a great time finding completely pointless topics that neither of us has any real vested interest in, and arguing about them for hours at a time. the fun is in thinking on your feet, taking the other person's position and finding the holes in it and sometimes in defending a completely illogical idea as though your life depended on it. Other times, though I fight with you because I love you. Foolish? Yes, and I know it. It happens when I care about your opinion, and I feel like you aren't understanding where I am coming from. I can't help it. I get more stringent and farther to the side I'm arguing - sometimes until I sound nutty even to myself, maybe thinking that you'll have to concede my original position was actually logical and reasonable, especially compared to the insanity I'm spouting. I'm trying not to do that, I am. But if you're the victim of it, it's because I need to know you think my position is valid, even if you don't agree. If you want to stop me, because I just can't seem to stop myself, all you'll need to do is say "You have a point" or "You're right, that does seem wrong" or just nod and sympathize with me. Sometimes, even a fighter needs someone to just listen