[His explanation does resonate with her, though perhaps not in the way he intended. She'd been through a similar chain of events, had done things she regretted and felt the need to atone for, but it also sent her down the path that lead her to everyone who was important to her, the found family she'd been forced to leave behind but still cared for deeply. Even if it weren't for this place, she would have had to leave them, and it's only now that she realizes she's been mistaken in hoping that this place would be a second chance— because for better or worse, she's already had that.
This place still offers time, an opportunity, but it feels hollow. Maybe she should just be grateful that she's had so many chances in the first place, but thinking that way feels like letting Styx's words of encouragement go to waste.
Maybe someday, she'll be able to be honest about what it is that weighs on her, both with herself and others. Maybe she'll be able to talk about it, to share, to process it fully— but she doesn't think today is that day. She'd rather focus on what he'd said, on the immediate struggle in front of her. Adapting to this world is something that the others who were brought here can understand, related to. She doesn't have to explain it, and difficult as the situation itself is, it's so much easier to focus on than everything else.]
Thank you.
[There's a hint of strain behind her voice, but she manages a small smile and reaches up to rub at one eye with the back of her hand before the momentary threat of tears can become something more.]
It's hard to imagine someone like you ever feeling that way. Nobody should ever have to feel like that— like they don't deserve to be here. That can't have been easy to share.
[Even without the details of what had actually lead him to that point, it clearly wasn't an easy thing to talk about.]
It sounds like we've both had more than our fair share of trouble. But... I do think you're right. Trying to pretend that things don't matter, or don't bother us... it doesn't make them go away. I should be more honest with myself about how I feel.
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This place still offers time, an opportunity, but it feels hollow. Maybe she should just be grateful that she's had so many chances in the first place, but thinking that way feels like letting Styx's words of encouragement go to waste.
Maybe someday, she'll be able to be honest about what it is that weighs on her, both with herself and others. Maybe she'll be able to talk about it, to share, to process it fully— but she doesn't think today is that day. She'd rather focus on what he'd said, on the immediate struggle in front of her. Adapting to this world is something that the others who were brought here can understand, related to. She doesn't have to explain it, and difficult as the situation itself is, it's so much easier to focus on than everything else.]
Thank you.
[There's a hint of strain behind her voice, but she manages a small smile and reaches up to rub at one eye with the back of her hand before the momentary threat of tears can become something more.]
It's hard to imagine someone like you ever feeling that way. Nobody should ever have to feel like that— like they don't deserve to be here. That can't have been easy to share.
[Even without the details of what had actually lead him to that point, it clearly wasn't an easy thing to talk about.]
It sounds like we've both had more than our fair share of trouble. But... I do think you're right. Trying to pretend that things don't matter, or don't bother us... it doesn't make them go away. I should be more honest with myself about how I feel.