[Someone should write that on Albert's coat of arms. But how else is he supposed to feel right now? Is he supposed to be calm and joke around like Franz? He can't do that. "You don't understand," is on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn't be fair, so he catches himself. Of course Franz doesn't understand. How could he?
I'm responsible for your death, I didn't listen, I was so selfish and stubborn. I watched you die. I felt the warmth drain out of your body, I held you after the last breath left your body and until the paramedics came and they had to pull me off you. I stood at your gravestone. Every day I prayed that next jump you'd be here, and every night I have that nightmare again where your blood is on my hands and I can't get it off. You left me, and it's my fault, and now I've changed, but I'm still trying to desperately cling on to who I was. How the hell can I be level headed?
He almost says it. There's a long pause where he thinks it. But the days when Albert would blurt out exactly what he was thinking without a care for anyone else's feelings have faded. Eventually he lets go of the breath he didn't know he was holding, and what comes out is:]
... Sorry. I'm still a little ... overwhelmed, that's all.
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[Someone should write that on Albert's coat of arms. But how else is he supposed to feel right now? Is he supposed to be calm and joke around like Franz? He can't do that. "You don't understand," is on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn't be fair, so he catches himself. Of course Franz doesn't understand. How could he?
I'm responsible for your death, I didn't listen, I was so selfish and stubborn. I watched you die. I felt the warmth drain out of your body, I held you after the last breath left your body and until the paramedics came and they had to pull me off you. I stood at your gravestone. Every day I prayed that next jump you'd be here, and every night I have that nightmare again where your blood is on my hands and I can't get it off. You left me, and it's my fault, and now I've changed, but I'm still trying to desperately cling on to who I was. How the hell can I be level headed?
He almost says it. There's a long pause where he thinks it. But the days when Albert would blurt out exactly what he was thinking without a care for anyone else's feelings have faded. Eventually he lets go of the breath he didn't know he was holding, and what comes out is:]
... Sorry. I'm still a little ... overwhelmed, that's all.