Yeah, she was right. Gale hated what they had become as well.
He was comprised of muscle, bone, nerve endings, and anger - sparks of it that ignited in his veins, the way he sizzled even in the rain, but the inferno it had morphed into was almost more than he could manage. Maybe part of the reason why he stayed in Two was because he couldn't envision living without that anger; he had to put it toward something where it could be of use, where it could continue to burn.
Katniss chose a calmer, cooler existence - she chose love. Gale didn't. He had no one to even offer that as an option.
"Me too - I hate it," he murmured, looking down at the dusty, dirty floor. He could hear the kitten, it was the only sound in the thoughtful silence. Usually, it was easy and comfortable to be silent around Katniss. "All of that, I mean. Especially the kidnapping part." Because what the hell, seriously. "I don't - what should we do?"