I never said I didn't want your forgiveness, I said I wasn't asking for it.
How could I let myself hope for the possibility of pardon? You are a swift, harsh and impartial judge of things, things that are always black and white, all of something or nothing at all, and never shades of gray. Except when it comes to him, then everything seems to become shades of gray.
I did not say any of these things to Deneve. They were my observations, my opinions, and not facts. What I relayed to her was brief. And I was heartsick over what was being done to you.
Should I have come to you? Perhaps. But perhaps I should likely have choked on it for all the good it's done, because there is nothing I could have---
---I didn't judge you.
[She judged him, many times over, though.]
You gave no quarter, no regard to the fact that what was falling from my lips was influenced by this place, and not the full picture of what I thought or believed. There is chaos in my mind, and you heard but one fragment of something I couldn't even properly understand. Let alone give voice to.
For a very long time, longer than I have known you, I spoke only of what I wished to be, not the fear and doubt that lay beneath. That is what crept to the surface when I called you a liability. Do you not have doubts? Thoughts that rush past and are beyond your control?
The least I can do is make you understand that it is not the whole truth, or even a greater part of it - the least I can do is take away that pain. The sickness I caused when it was said. Because it means nothing if it was not true.
Nothing.
[...]
The silence is a reminder of a time when you were [something else] ...gone.
/ gets a lasso?
How could I let myself hope for the possibility of pardon? You are a swift, harsh and impartial judge of things, things that are always black and white, all of something or nothing at all, and never shades of gray. Except when it comes to him, then everything seems to become shades of gray.
I did not say any of these things to Deneve. They were my observations, my opinions, and not facts. What I relayed to her was brief. And I was heartsick over what was being done to you.
Should I have come to you? Perhaps. But perhaps I should likely have choked on it for all the good it's done, because there is nothing I could have---
---I didn't judge you.
[She judged him, many times over, though.]
You gave no quarter, no regard to the fact that what was falling from my lips was influenced by this place, and not the full picture of what I thought or believed. There is chaos in my mind, and you heard but one fragment of something I couldn't even properly understand. Let alone give voice to.
For a very long time, longer than I have known you, I spoke only of what I wished to be, not the fear and doubt that lay beneath. That is what crept to the surface when I called you a liability. Do you not have doubts? Thoughts that rush past and are beyond your control?
The least I can do is make you understand that it is not the whole truth, or even a greater part of it - the least I can do is take away that pain. The sickness I caused when it was said. Because it means nothing if it was not true.
Nothing.
[...]
The silence is a reminder of a time when you were [something else] ...gone.
[...]
It is unbearable.