You've made explicit descriptions about specific things that you yourself feel.
I made an inference about you based on those specific statements
I did not make a blanket statement about "Most People" (i.e. people I've never met or talked to or read about.)
You did. So knock it off with the categorical errors already.
FRANK
I was put in this mental hospital for killing someone. I was diagnosed as a sociopath through testing. I don't have empathy and I don't feel remorse. I liked getting drunk and high and wasting money. My home life sucked, I only cared for my younger brother. Two years after being admitted, a boy was roomed with me, Frank. I was stubborn about having friends at first, but I gave him a chance. I learned every single detail about him. He suffered from depression, dependent personality disorder, anxiety, and PTSD. He was admitted for trying to kill himself for the fourth time. Over a month, I realized I had feelings for him. On Valentine's Day I wrote a note telling him how I felt. We started dating. A couple months later, he tried killing himself with a knife he stole from the cafeteria. He had horrible cuts that are sill on his arms. Then a few months later, he started purging. Not having seen my brother for over two years, he shows up. (He ran away for the Summer.) Everything was going great. But then, my brother told Frank about my past. He told him about how I got drunk and manipulated the fuck out of my exes. He told him how I recklessly spended and fucked nearly everyone. The only thing Frank knew was the fact that I killed someone. I told him I had never kissed anyone, had sex with anyone, and he believed me. So a week after my brother told him about me, Frank confronted me. We got into an argument. Frank was diagnosed with purging disorder. He was becoming bony and his cheeks were puffy. We argued for months on end about everything. Then, one day, I was informed that he took his life...
Two years later, I was completely bitter and cold. I didn't have Frank. I hated speaking to my brother. I hated the world. I ended up having a huge anger breakdown and I basically said that I needed Frank. A week later, I learned I was lied to. Frank didn't fucking kill himself, he was transferred! So we were reunited and we were happy. We don't argue, we get along, and we're honest. I'm in love with him. I need him. I'd protect him from anything.
We're out of the hospital now. We share a home together. We love each other. He doesn't expect me to be the most affectionate person and I don't expect him to be the least. I want to propose to him. But it's weird... I've never felt this way for anyone. It used to be Me against The World. Now it's Me and Frank against The World. But I don't wanna change that. Should I propose?