Dear Prudence: I talk to myself, so what? But my boyfriend thinks I’m nuts.

Emily Yoffe, aka Dear Prudence, is on Washingtonpost.com weekly to chat live with readers. I’ll sort of ask myself questions and answer them, for example, or say something like, “Guh, I don’t know what I feel like having for dinner,” and then say, “Maybe pasta? He seems to think I need to talk to a psychiatrist if I’m “having conversations with myself” and he’s been asking if I “hear voices.” I’ve tried to explain that this is just a habit of thinking out loud and that it’s relatively normal but he won’t let it go. I assume the happy birthday song did not conclude, “Happy Birthday, Dear Jennifer, and don’t kiss any of us on the lip!” Even if you hate being the center of attention, especially when you’re sporting a mouth sore, your reaction to the cake sounds churlish, foolish, and ungrateful. You say you tried to open a dialogue, but if you’re doing so, you need to start not by “placating,” but by sincerely apologizing for making him uncomfortable about a lovely gesture.