Just so you know, I read these fan fictions.

I love the good ones. The exciting ones, the ones where Jane is Jane and I am me. The Red John ones. The Patrick in jeopardy ones. The ones with witty repartee and intricate plotting. The zany ones and the strange ones. Even the sex scenes I can get behind.

But through my reading, it has come to my attention that some of you out there feel Patrick Jane owes me a lot.

Apologies mostly.

Tell me what he's supposed to say he's sorry for?

For feeling that having a girlfriend (or friends) before Red John was dead would be self-indulgent?

For deciding that letting me in on his plans might not be the wisest path? Something I proved in spades when I put trackers on the seven suspects.

For leaving me on the side of the road when he went to meet Red John?

For escaping to Venezuela after killing the bastard?

For coming back to the U.S., risking prison, and handing me my career back?

For honoring my wishes and letting me make my own choices, stupid as choosing Marcus would have been?

For never pointing out that in this enlightened world we live in, (it's almost 2015, ladies), it would have made just as much sense that I make the first confession of love?

Instead I took his planned seduction in Florida as an insult and made him chase the plane bad rom-com style.

What did I think the dresses meant anyway? Best wishes in all your future endeavors, signed, a co-worker?

Who was I kidding? Where did I get off slipping into that strapless and then acting all innocent about what was going on? The water in the face and the dramatic exit virtue intact at the end of the second act.

Patrick Jane was seducing me. So I decided the percentage play was to accept Marcus's proposal.

I don't like myself for those last few months. Insight-free would be a kind way of describing me. So I'm owning my behavior.

Despite it all, I wound up with the most desirable man in the world in love with me.

And not once has he demanded reparations from me.

Yet everyday, I'm confronted by stories that make me think there must be a lot of grievance collectors out there. People who like the idea of an insecure, obedient, sycophantic Jane waxing poetic 24-7 over everything from my hair to my feminine hygiene.

What happened to you guys to make you think that's a relationship? A narcissistic bore is what that is. Take some selfies and your medication, you'll feel better.

You might want to think about why you write about Jane like he has much to answer for.

Are you trying to get back at some guy who done you wrong? Or are you pissed about the one you wound up with? I think maybe I was still pissed at my dad. I understand that now.

It's called projection.

Do me a favor. Project it onto someone who deserves it . Not the loyal widower and father, avenger of the weak, best friend and lover who makes me smile all day.

Write one more scene in which Patrick doubts he's worthy of me and I will find you and get you. I have guns.