faceblocks | deer country: inbox

That's fair, but why should your shoulders get overburdened because of it? Share the load a little.

You're not gonna hurt me, not in the way that you think. I know what I can ha---

[is it s wince or a grin? it's both.]

Is it that obvious? Well. Most of us? We're all probably hurting in a bunch of ways. And some of us are stubborn and won't try to make it any easier on ourselves because...

[a shrug.]

...because we're idiots with fat heads.

Because I deserve it.

[The answer's automatic, the words just easily leaving his mouth. He can't take them back... but he can't say that it's wrong.]

Your head's not fat. Neither's mine.

[He sighs and the camera moves for a moment, his omen nuzzling him briefly.]

Some of us hurt others more than other people.

I could say I deserve everything I got, too. I...

[this is hard. because she feels as if she did. but. what does she say to everyone else?]

...didn't, though. I was a kid, and I was over my head. I couldn't have known what would happen.

[it's like pulling teeth. mostly, she just pretends she's talking about someone else.]

Sure, maybe? But I don't think that matters. It's not a contest, and there's always someone with a higher count. Then there's the whole part about the why. You get shit like "really good people making terrible choices for the greater good". Or "shitty people doing a good thing but for selfish reasons".

You say you deserve it, I say fuck that. I don't think you do. So one of us must have a fat head.

[He knew what would happen, though. He knew and it was all because of his own stupid actions that he had to fight like that.]

[She's right, it's not a contest. But the guilt still eats at him every day.]

I just... I know I should 'share the load', but I don't really know how. I've never been good at sharing.

[Is that a joke? Or is it reality? Maybe both.]

I've talked about my problems enough. People keep dragging it out of me, and then they're all horrified when they learn what happened. It's the same reaction all the time to the point where it's almost boring rather than frustrating.

I'm tired of talking about my problems. I want to do something about them. Besides talking.

[if not him it would have been someone else, right? right?? she'll never believe him to be the culprit, the villain, or at fault for this. that's someone else's bullshit to bear.]

Then you just try. And you do your best. Your best might suck compared to someone else's, so ...stop comparing. You know if you're trying or not. And if your hundred percent looks like someone else's fifty, that's not your problem.

We can't do shit about the past. But you're right. We can do shit about being here. Talking's good sometimes, but it's not a cure-all. I'm all for you getting stronger, whatever that means to you.

But I don't want anyone dying to protect me. Been there, done that, still have the nightmares. Still dealing with the fallout, even here.

... Yeah. I have those nightmares, too. Even if some of them didn't care about me, all of the others died to protect me.

[Well. Except one of them, who was a coward and tried to run. But that's a story for another time.]

I... I'm trying. I don't want to slow you down. I don't want to hold you back. If we're in a situation where you have to protect me I... want you to be able to focus on protecting yourself.

[He doesn't want to die for Vi. He doesn't want to die at all, but he did. He knows people come back here but... what if they don't? He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]

I'm... starting karate. Not with that Johnny asshole, with the other guy. I want to be able to fight, not just run.

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