[He stops, though.] Do you want to stop this? Do you want to stop Saturdays, cancel beach and mural plans. [He doesn't dare ask about the ReConvention. If Dave says no to these, then—then he probably will say no to those, too. And his stomach feels sick at the idea.]
Bein' around you these days hurts more often than it doesn't, and it'll be worse now. I hate it. I probably won't enjoy this like you want me to. But fuck me because I guess puttin' up with it is a thing I still intend to do. It's not a no and it's not a yes. It just is.
[ but it's his decision, apparently, so...what's best? dave already knows any of the options won't really do great for him, so.
okay.
a wound probably can't heal if you keep jamming a finger in it, and gangrene or cancer will just keep spreading if you don't cut it out. the halfway bullshit probably makes things worse on dirk. dave takes a breath, and says: ]
We can stop them. I'll see you at family gatherin' shit still, probably.
[He's quiet still, but his monotone isn't level, breaking uneasily, rising in distress as he talks.]
It feels like having someone yank the choice out of my hand and step on it while they say it's for my own good. It feels like gettin' told I can't make an A+ so I'm getting flunked out of school and left with jackshit. It feels like losin' my best friend.
[It's too much. He knows it. It's too much and he goes still again, his voice dropping back down.]
So I wanted to give you the choice. Stupid of me for hopin' you'd ever decide I was worth the work of tryin'. Stupid and selfish as usual.
Fuck.
[He isn't supposed to talk like that. He isn't supposed to let out how deep the hate goes anymore, or tell the truth of how bad things hurt.]
It'll hurt for a while and then you'll heal. You told me to decide. And this is way fuckin' better than knowin' every single second we hang out it's hurtin' you and other people. So thanks for everythin' till now and I'm sorry. But you wanted me to pick, so that's my decision.
I want to work for you. I want to spend time with you. I can work with what you gave me, I can work on this arrangement, but I can't—Healin' from a severed arm still leaves you one limb short, and even a robot arm isn't going to be a true replacement.
[He tries not to rip himself apart, talking. He tries to keep steady.]
I won't fight your choice. I just fuckin' hate that you're makin' it for my sake when it's the opposite of what I want.
No, you will heal. I'm not as integral as you seem to think. You're just...too close to it right now to see.
[ and dirk won't fight it, so dave can let go. it's almost a relief, because one cut is better than a thousand every day. ]
This road only you and I get hurt, and you only get hurt for a little while. You'll do better now that you can talk to people about shit. I...don't have to go, technically, but I'm gonna. Unless there's anythin' else. I'll go home and shower or somethin'. [ oh, wait: ] About the con, I don't know if you looked into tickets or whatever - I can pay you back if you did, if not...we don't have to worry about that, I guess, if not.
You can talk to other people, the only thing stoppin' you from doin' it was me, and I'm not a factor anymore. Okay? I'm not gonna be a factor, do you think I fuckin' want that, because I don't! I don't. So - I'll make myself matter not at all, okay, and at least then I'll hate myself a fraction less.
[ and he can rebuild the walls higher and better this time, because he knows how strong they have to be. no one is allowed inside. ]
We can still...do stuff. Just not entire days or huge amounts of time. Casual. Like with the girls. It was stupid as fuck to let things work out like this, relyin' on one another this much.
Right, because me being happy without you won't be another fuckin' nail in the coffin of what we have left. Do you think I want to be happy after losin' you? Do you seriously think I won't feel guilty for every goddamned flicker of joy I get, knowin' that if you knew you'd tell yourself you were right to cut away from me, that you knew goddamned best? God, Bro, I'll talk to people if you want, I swear I fuckin' will, but if you cut me off like this I'm fucked. I'll hate myself every damn time I smile 'cause it'll feel like hurtin' you.
[He's trying to breathe, he's trying to stay steady. But it isn't working. He can see everything slipping away and isolation drowning him.]
Takin' yourself out of the picture doesn't make you not matter. You want to change things, you want to compromise, fine, but this scorched earth tactic you have running ain't right.
You wanted to talk to other people. I'm letting you.
[ and maybe it's true whatever trust he'd managed to hang onto burned to ashes over the course of this conversation, and that it'd been weak flames to start with, but whatever. ]
You bein' happy won't hurt. I'd be thrilled if you were. And maybe you can handle the halfway between bullshit but maybe I can't, okay? Not without feelin' completely fuckin' wrecked all the time. Did you want honesty? I know I'm right but more than that maybe I'm the one who can't handle this. Maybe I'm the one who has to learn to heal the wounds so it just stops, and maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to sit through another round of back and forth again whenever I manage to find the slightest bit of equilibrium.
I didn't want to talk to people for my sake. I have you. Had you.
I just didn't want to abandon Rox and Jake whenever the day comes that they want to talk to me about being killed or makin' out with my decapitated head.
You don't have to abandon them. You can talk to them about anythin' and support them and...whatever. You have my blessings and you don't have to worry about me ever again, in this or anythin' else. So it'll be ok.
[ it'll be fine. it's a manta he remembers from before, and he repeats the words often enough they're nearly meaningless. ]
You were right. I was right, all along, when I said it wouldn't work, and it was a stop gap measure. It'd fuck things up and we won't do it any longer, and I know how to go through life without needin' to hand out pieces of my soul to anyone, so - it'll be ok. Please just focus on the people who'll still accept needin' you.
It will be. I always knew it would be, I was just a little too selfish for a little too long. I won't do that anymore.
[ he doesn't relax, but he steadies somehow, emotion draining into calm. ]
I'm...sorry about everythin'. And I genuinely hope you end up happy, though I know you will do. I do know I'm the only reason you haven't been, and I'm sorry for that, too. I should have stopped this a long time ago. I shouldn't have asked you for help, and I shouldn't have reached out my hand. Thanks for...at least pretendin' to go along with shit, for as long as you did, and sorry for askin' it.
[ he lets go. ]
This is the last time I'll ever tell you the truth.
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I changed my mind. I want you to do the thing where you ask before touchin' me. And I would prefer you to not, just now.
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...Okay. Sorry.
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[ he will head towards the beach. ]
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We can. It might be easiest. [ facts, no opinion. ]
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Bein' around you these days hurts more often than it doesn't, and it'll be worse now. I hate it. I probably won't enjoy this like you want me to. But fuck me because I guess puttin' up with it is a thing I still intend to do. It's not a no and it's not a yes. It just is.
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If you're miserable you can be off the hook. Same thing as you pushed on me.
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[ but it's his decision, apparently, so...what's best? dave already knows any of the options won't really do great for him, so.
okay.
a wound probably can't heal if you keep jamming a finger in it, and gangrene or cancer will just keep spreading if you don't cut it out. the halfway bullshit probably makes things worse on dirk. dave takes a breath, and says: ]
We can stop them. I'll see you at family gatherin' shit still, probably.
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[He's quiet still, but his monotone isn't level, breaking uneasily, rising in distress as he talks.]
It feels like having someone yank the choice out of my hand and step on it while they say it's for my own good. It feels like gettin' told I can't make an A+ so I'm getting flunked out of school and left with jackshit. It feels like losin' my best friend.
[It's too much. He knows it. It's too much and he goes still again, his voice dropping back down.]
So I wanted to give you the choice. Stupid of me for hopin' you'd ever decide I was worth the work of tryin'. Stupid and selfish as usual.
Fuck.
[He isn't supposed to talk like that. He isn't supposed to let out how deep the hate goes anymore, or tell the truth of how bad things hurt.]
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[ dave looks down, because it's easiest. ]
It'll hurt for a while and then you'll heal. You told me to decide. And this is way fuckin' better than knowin' every single second we hang out it's hurtin' you and other people. So thanks for everythin' till now and I'm sorry. But you wanted me to pick, so that's my decision.
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[He tries not to rip himself apart, talking. He tries to keep steady.]
I won't fight your choice. I just fuckin' hate that you're makin' it for my sake when it's the opposite of what I want.
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[ and dirk won't fight it, so dave can let go. it's almost a relief, because one cut is better than a thousand every day. ]
This road only you and I get hurt, and you only get hurt for a little while. You'll do better now that you can talk to people about shit. I...don't have to go, technically, but I'm gonna. Unless there's anythin' else. I'll go home and shower or somethin'. [ oh, wait: ] About the con, I don't know if you looked into tickets or whatever - I can pay you back if you did, if not...we don't have to worry about that, I guess, if not.
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You don't even want to hang out with me two weeks from now, not even to have a stupid time where we don't do anything important.
[There's a despairing pain deep in his chest and he wants to rip it out.]
Fuck it, Bro, am I just going to get nothin'?
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[ and he can rebuild the walls higher and better this time, because he knows how strong they have to be. no one is allowed inside. ]
We can still...do stuff. Just not entire days or huge amounts of time. Casual. Like with the girls. It was stupid as fuck to let things work out like this, relyin' on one another this much.
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[He's trying to breathe, he's trying to stay steady. But it isn't working. He can see everything slipping away and isolation drowning him.]
Takin' yourself out of the picture doesn't make you not matter. You want to change things, you want to compromise, fine, but this scorched earth tactic you have running ain't right.
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[ and maybe it's true whatever trust he'd managed to hang onto burned to ashes over the course of this conversation, and that it'd been weak flames to start with, but whatever. ]
You bein' happy won't hurt. I'd be thrilled if you were. And maybe you can handle the halfway between bullshit but maybe I can't, okay? Not without feelin' completely fuckin' wrecked all the time. Did you want honesty? I know I'm right but more than that maybe I'm the one who can't handle this. Maybe I'm the one who has to learn to heal the wounds so it just stops, and maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to sit through another round of back and forth again whenever I manage to find the slightest bit of equilibrium.
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I'm sorry.
[He closes his eyes.]
I didn't want to talk to people for my sake. I have you. Had you.
I just didn't want to abandon Rox and Jake whenever the day comes that they want to talk to me about being killed or makin' out with my decapitated head.
That was all it was.
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[ it'll be fine. it's a manta he remembers from before, and he repeats the words often enough they're nearly meaningless. ]
You were right. I was right, all along, when I said it wouldn't work, and it was a stop gap measure. It'd fuck things up and we won't do it any longer, and I know how to go through life without needin' to hand out pieces of my soul to anyone, so - it'll be ok. Please just focus on the people who'll still accept needin' you.
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[He'll lie. He'll give Dave peace.]
I'm sorry.
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[ he doesn't relax, but he steadies somehow, emotion draining into calm. ]
I'm...sorry about everythin'. And I genuinely hope you end up happy, though I know you will do. I do know I'm the only reason you haven't been, and I'm sorry for that, too. I should have stopped this a long time ago. I shouldn't have asked you for help, and I shouldn't have reached out my hand. Thanks for...at least pretendin' to go along with shit, for as long as you did, and sorry for askin' it.
[ he lets go. ]
This is the last time I'll ever tell you the truth.
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[Dirk slumps back into the wall. He has his face in his hands. He is trying and failing to not cry.]
Don't go, I don't want to lose the truth from you—
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