Logically he knows that everything ends. But right now, logic isn't exactly a friend.
He lifts his lowered gaze. He'd been afraid to be told that it was just the way things were. He'd wondered if he might just be told it's all him, something entirely unrelatable. But it's neither, and not even for the reasons he thought.
But nothing that lives is so orderly as that. He knows that smile there is for the irony of it, the status they share, dead but here.
"Even now?" He asks. "You hardly ever seem messy to me, amigo." Only sometimes, little moments, the times he seems most human. He looks back down, a lot on his mind he wants to say or explain. A lot of it's stuff that Ekkehardt already knows. He settles for saying, "I'm not very good at that. At- at liking myself. I can help out the kids sometimes, but I can't seem to help... me." He tugs the guitar closer to himself. "What do you do?"
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He lifts his lowered gaze. He'd been afraid to be told that it was just the way things were. He'd wondered if he might just be told it's all him, something entirely unrelatable. But it's neither, and not even for the reasons he thought.
But nothing that lives is so orderly as that. He knows that smile there is for the irony of it, the status they share, dead but here.
"Even now?" He asks. "You hardly ever seem messy to me, amigo." Only sometimes, little moments, the times he seems most human. He looks back down, a lot on his mind he wants to say or explain. A lot of it's stuff that Ekkehardt already knows. He settles for saying, "I'm not very good at that. At- at liking myself. I can help out the kids sometimes, but I can't seem to help... me." He tugs the guitar closer to himself. "What do you do?"