Re: In-person: Cris/Sam
[She considers him serious. He starts shaking his head almost as soon as she starts. He's listening, but he refuses to agree.] Dios mio. Mami, you are the most important thing to me. You. Okay? YOU. [He almost shakes her. His lips graze hers.] You aren't LUMPED with nothin'. You are somethin' good I come home to. You not bein' in the mood to tease don't STOP that. You havin' things to deal with don't stop that. You're a person. I—I ain't ever begrudged you that. And of fuckin' COURSE I want you to be okay. You want me to be okay. You wanna help me feel good. That's what I want. [And more forceful.] What I wanna do is fuckin' shake you, because you ain't listenin' to me. I am your PARTNER. Dealin' with your bad stuff is a parta that. You do it for me. ¡Coño! Just 'cause I'm messed up don't mean you can't be. Don't you get it? Helpin' you—bein' there, bein' the person—[He shakes his head again, disgusted with himself.] Mira. I wanna be the magic fuckin' bullet, huh? I wanna be so good, so good for you, so EVERYTHING, you got no more problems. I wanna be the only person you need. I wanna be able to make you not have nightmares. I wanna be able to take whatever pain and scars you got and ease 'em. I can't do that. I can't. I want to, more than anything, but I can't. Nobody can do that for somebody else. And, without somea those scars, baby, you wouldn't be you. How fucked up is that? I want you to have scars, so you'd still end up here with me. But, another parta me—If I could change things, I would keep you away and I would die happy, knowin' you never had it happen. But, since I can't do that? Since I'm just another fuckin' guy, I gotta take knowin' sometimes you need other people—you need therapists, you need doctors, you need Joey, you need family. That's life. It ain't no reflection on me or you. And you experiencin' emotions beyond 'teasin'' and 'fuckin'' and 'happy'—Sam, I want that. Okay? QUIERO. I can't promise that it'll always be easy for me to swallow. You don't like hearin' 'bout the bad shit that's happened to me, but, carajo—it don't mean you don't wanna hear it. It don't mean you don't care. It's the same for me. It ain't always easy to listen to, but I WANNA know. It is more—Me not knowin'? Not bein' able to help? Bein' spared, 'cause you don't wanna burden me, it's like you're denyin' me somethin' that's real important to me. Which is selfish as fuck, lo sé. But, I—it's important to me to be there. It's so important. I know I got to a point where I couldn't actually deal with the consequencesa that want. I know and that ain't your fault. And I can't—I don't wanna go back there no more than you do, and I'm gonna try to be awarea where I'm at, so I know, and I'll TELL you, okay? I'll tell you I can't take it. But, then you can't keep it from me forever. Please. [He's holding onto her tight.] I wanna know alla you. I do. It's a fuckin' lifetime thing, okay? Don't deny me that 'cause I was bad for a couplea months.
[He takes a couplea deeeeep breaths and looks, split open, at Sam, jaw clenched to keep himself quiet for a second. After a minute, and after dragging his arm across his nose and smearing snot in a glossy line through black, he admits:] Sorry, I got carried away.