"It matters because it bothers me," he admitted. "More than I thought it would, more than I'd like it to. And it scares me, too. It scares me because I don't like knowing what I'm capable of." He felt a little strange, discussing this while he was floating as weightlessly as he usually felt. "It scares me because I don't know if that was really me or if it was the drugs and the chip that bitch put in me." He reached out to put his hand against Spike's chest. "It scares me because one day you'll look at me and realize all that, and I won't have you any longer." His fingertips curled just a little as he stroked Spike's skin. "It scares me because just when I thought I had a handle on things, this comes back up and sets up a whole new hurdle, and this time, I'm not sure I can make it." His hand flattened again. "And it bothers me that it doesn't bother you. It should bother you, because we--I--hurt you. Badly. And I don't understand how you can forgive me because I don't know how to forgive myself."