"I hate that." He obeys, raising his arms, pulling in a breath and really feeling - for the first time - how sore the rest of him is. Even if, at the time, it had felt like it took almost no effort at all.
"Who I am doesn't really bother me anymore, but that... He couldn't love me the way I am now. He might try, but he wouldn't be able to do it."
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"Who I am doesn't really bother me anymore, but that... He couldn't love me the way I am now. He might try, but he wouldn't be able to do it."