[Simon is silent for a good while, as if his tongue has suddenly curled inwards and somehow receded to the back of his mouth. He can't say anything, not to a complete stranger, no matter how badly he wants to. She doesn't know who Grace is or what the Apex does, and she's already laughed at him about Chubby Bunny. She certainly wouldn't get the whole Train thing, either, however-]
That's so hard, that's really hard, I-
[If anyone knows what it's like to feel alone, to struggle with the idea of putting your truest self out there only to have your hopes dashed when trying to connect with other people, it's him.
So much of that is Simon's own fault, although there is a small bit that isn't. If he could just stand to leave the spooky vault of his own twisted, fractured mind and just try to see things from the perspective of another person, maybe things would be different. But nobody has taught him how, you see, for he has spent the greater portion of his now young adult years unsupervised, unguided.
Somehow, Kyna's misery makes him uncharacteristically upset. Because for once, he believes he just might understand how the other person feels.]
I'm so sorry.
[If he was still on the train with that eerie green glow in the palm of his hand, he would notice that the numbers on his arm would be changing this very second, and perhaps when he returns-]
no subject
That's so hard, that's really hard, I-
[If anyone knows what it's like to feel alone, to struggle with the idea of putting your truest self out there only to have your hopes dashed when trying to connect with other people, it's him.
So much of that is Simon's own fault, although there is a small bit that isn't. If he could just stand to leave the spooky vault of his own twisted, fractured mind and just try to see things from the perspective of another person, maybe things would be different. But nobody has taught him how, you see, for he has spent the greater portion of his now young adult years unsupervised, unguided.
Somehow, Kyna's misery makes him uncharacteristically upset. Because for once, he believes he just might understand how the other person feels.]
I'm so sorry.
[If he was still on the train with that eerie green glow in the palm of his hand, he would notice that the numbers on his arm would be changing this very second, and perhaps when he returns-]
Is there anything I can do? U-uh, oh, I...
[There will be less of them.]
I guess I don't really know you.