Easier for S, J nearly says, but it's not entirely true. It was just a different kind of difficult for him. But for J, the terrible aching anxiety might have been eased sooner, and that's the problem. At the same time, S couldn't have known that; it would have been easy to assume talking about it would only make things worse. It's all so messy and complicated, but that's a good thing, too, J thinks. Hopes, anyway. Simply yelling at each other and not talking things out was less complicated, too, but ultimately so much worse. Sometimes messy is useful.

"It shouldn't be," he says, quiet and earnest. "It's ours. Whatever shape that is. And I — I don't want you to give things up for me. If I did, I'd say so." He already feels like he's wreaked too much havoc on S's life, complicated too many things. It's up to S whether or not that's true, and he knows S disagrees, but that doesn't keep him from wanting to make sure it never gets to that point. He wants to give S more, not less.

"I... I was scared to say anything, because it hurts, talking about those things." And if he never said anything, he knows, S could never confirm he was right. He was too much of a coward, too blinded by his worries. "But... we have to sometimes. Even if it hurts... I'd rather know what you're thinking about and worrying about. And if... something is too much for me or a problem, I promise I'll tell you, but... ask me. It's better to know for sure, even if it hurts, right? I'll try to remember. I should have said."