Derek... I get what you're saying. I appreciate it, too. I've been disappointed for eighteen years. Everything good that's ever happened to me, everything that was supposed to be good, is gone. It's dead or it left. Eighteen years or that, man.
I know that we're similar and I know that you get what I'm feeling. But I mean... you know what it's like to have something nice, you know what you want and what feeling you're chasing after. What happened to you in the past was horrible, I know nothing can make it better. I do know that. But I don't know what it's like to have what you had. I barely remember my mom. I don't know what it's like to have a home that you want to go back to. I don't know what it's like to sit down at a table and have a big dinner with a big family that you love, I don't know what any of that feels like. I don't know what it's like to have your older sibling take you with them to protect you. Mine left me there. With him
I know that I'm standing in my own way. But by moving and letting everything hit me and accepting it all and pushing forward, I'm going to hit more disappointment. And I'm just... tired. I'm tired of being disappointed. I'm tired of being left behind. I'm tired of being pushed away, I'm tired of people dying, Derek. Maybe I would feel differently if I knew what it was like to have something good. But I don't. I'm not willing to risk being hurt all over again, again, for the slim chance of experiencing something I can't even miss in the first place.
Why do you think I'm here? Yeah, fucking is great. I can do that back home. I can do something important here. I can make a person, and I can guarantee that that person will never feel like this. How could I not want to do that? How could I not want to promise that to someone?