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"How could that have not hurt me, Melvin? I don't get it." It probably just boiled down to Melvin not understanding the way he felt, again. Everything felt like Horace had explained it over and over to the other man but it went in one ear and out the other. "And I told you how it could have worked, but it doesn't matter now, does it?" He pushed a hand through his hair.

"Everything I've said about this just seems to ... I don't know, like you're not actually listening to me. Like you don't care." He held up a hand. "And maybe you don't, whatever. But it's always seemed like people only listen to half of what I say or feel and dismiss all of it. And I thought... I thought you, of all people, would have thought about me." But Melvin hadn't, not really. God, he would've felt better about it all if he'd been given any kind of heads up, any kind of warning. It had taken all his self control not to scoff bitterly at Melvin mentioning how much it meant to him.

"Do you at least understand why I was hurt?" Because at this point, h wasn't sure Melvin knew why he was hurt, why their friendship was irreparable. His skin felt clammy; unease crawled along his bones.

"Clearly," he said acerbically, but kept himself quiet for the rest of what Melvin was saying. His hands grew increasingly fidgety as the words went on, twisting over and over themselves.

After Melvin was done, he remained silent for a few seconds. "Yeah, I guess you get it. I thought it would make me feel better to know that, but it really doesn't. The one hing you still don't get, Melvin, is that neither I nor anyone has the right to tell you you can't feel for someone. And that you thought I'd flat out say 'no'... kinda hurts. I'm not stupid, and I don't appreciate being treated that way." He shifted up off the bed, putting on his pants. "I might have requested time, a bit, before you, you know, shacked up with him. But I doubt you'd have been okay with that, either." Mostly dressed, he sat back down.

"The night before I left was the night he told me to leave and, according to him, even then, I was supposed to come back. I didn't think I had the right to come back; I couldn't because of the job; and by the time I could, it was too ******** late." He'd noticed Melvin didn't explain the arm comment further, and was too ******** tired to press it. It would always bother him, he thought, lingering in the back of his mind like a devil on his shoulder.

"I guess that's all there is, isn't it?" He couldn't tell Melvin he'd slept with Lawrence on new year's eve, or that Lawrence always told him 'I'm coming back for you'. Melvin wouldn't care, most likely. Horace wouldn't sleep with Lawrence again (it had been good, so ******** good, but ultimately - was it worth it?). Things not worth mentioning.

"That's not what I said. I sad I didn't have the right to tell you not to feel for someone. Whether I have feelings or not for Lawrence is none of your business anymore and I'm about to go into any more detail on that with you." Horace wasn't going to expose anything more to Melvin than he had to. Vulnerability was a weakness, and it had been okay before, because he'd counted Melvin among his friends. Things were different now. "I would have asked for a little time in consideration for how I felt, but." He made a noncommittal noise.

He looked down at his hands. "It felt like your were saying that even in this, I'd ******** things up. Like I couldn't even get disfigured correctly - a ******** above all things. I... didn't want this." Horace froze when Melvin voiced his last question, fingers quickly twisting in the sheets beside him.

"He..." Horace fell silent. "Does it even matter?"

"He doesn't love, and if you asked him, he'd tell you that. He wants and he wants and he wants and he's never satisfied. I thought it would be good to be the thing he wanted the most, but I wasn't. You aren't, either." A sense of guilt or maybe shame washed over him. That he was saying such things while getting ready to go meet Lawrence. Well, it was only for his curtain, after all. It was to remove the last bits of himself from the places Lawrence occupied.

He watched Melvin stand. "Are you happy?"

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. I want you to think about your life and if you're happy with it. Even if you think you don't deserve it, think about it." Horace sighed. "I don't need or care about your answer to that, but still. Anyway, I've got someone I need to meet."

"Yes, I do. But that doesn't change that it'll wear down on you." It was something he couldn't argue with Melvin about; he knew Melvin would not listen. He hoped he was a little more open than Melvin. Horace shook his head, but didn't attempt to hold Melvin there any longer.