"I hear what you're saying," he said, privately relieved she was still talking, and even delving deeper with him instead of pulling away. He'd needed to talk about this more than he'd realized, "But how am I supposed to figure something like that out when they just come right out and say they won't," he shook his head, scrubbing the word since it wasn't fair to replace what had been said to him, even now, "Can't tell me everything. I mean, I spilled my guts, Lou, and she still kept me at arm's length."
This was turning more into a conversation about what had happened after the awkward evening, but they were more or less connected.
"I thought I knew her, I guess is what I'm saying," Gus frowned, "We were really good friends, and I thought I knew her, but there's a whole other person underneath, and I'm just supposed to... what? Just be happy with the person she puts forward?"
He shook his head, "I can only be me, and I can't play those kinds of games anymore. I'm forty-two, Lou. When I was your age, sure, I'd play the guessing games, but what's the point of it? Wouldn't you rather just get it all out, up front, so nobody's wasting their time? You pour so much energy into learning about one person, and then suddenly, there's a stranger there that you have to figure out all over again."
He was rambling, close to ranting, but he felt like he was talking through what he couldn't manage in his head. Justice was a friend, but did he even know her? And was their friendship too badly bruised now? It'd be his fault for pushing, but how could he beat himself up for just trying to be open and honest? Gus didn't think it was too much to expect it in return.