Sighing heavily, Derek ran a hand through his hair. He deserved that, he supposed. She hadn't been the one who'd shut down first. Suddenly, he was feeling a lot more selfish about this than he had when he'd left the house to come over here.
"I can't sleep," he replied. "I can't sleep. I don't eat the way I should, because I've got no appetite. I'm miserable," he added, because he might as well tell the truth. That was, after all, what he was here to do. "Because all I can do is...think about you. All the time. Every minute of every miserable fucking day, because I'm an idiot," he said.
Derek looked pained as he ducked his head for a moment to try to regain composure before looking back up at her and continuing. "Because I'm scared. I haven't..." he paused, his brow creasing and his mouth going dry. "I haven't felt like this in years and I'm so fucking afraid, Patty, because the last time I felt like this—"
Again, he ran a hand through his hair; over his face, pausing over his mouth before falling back to his side again. "I'm a jerk. I'm a jerk, you're so goddamned perfect, you are, and you can do so much better than this but for whatever reason, you don't want to, and I must be the stupidest man to walk the Earth because I'm afraid when I don't need to be. Because I'm scared that I blew it already, but I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about how much I love you and how bad I fucked up letting you walk away."
He felt like he was going to be sick now that it was out there in the open.