[To some, communication is an ideal. For him, it's a tool.
Like this extraneous Jane that's been limping along somewhere beyond canon for three goddamn years. He can't bring himself to care about her, even if he wanted to. He's stopped just short of saying so in those words, but he can only tell her how little she matters here so many times before it becomes painfully obvious it's not sticking.
He's so incredibly tired and so goddamn fucking wired; hearing just how transparent that is only intensifies it, both the wash of feverish energy and intense feverlike drain. Her inevitable belligerence is one thing, but ignoring his direct message (Goodbye, Jane) in favour of digging for some secret message buried between the lines is toeing the absolute limit of his patience.
So much for doing her a favour.
The kicker is that he'd tried her idea of 'communication' for a while, having been sold on the idea of it as a necessary part of bettering himself as a person. Asking for help. Admitting to personal struggle. That kind of thing. It made sense at the time. But it turned out that the merits of sharing his 'sincere' feelings depended on a whole mess of assumptions. Assumptions that were proven false by a fast-growing body of evidence.
He'd never been able to ignore the facts, unlike some people.
And the truth was this: it encouraged the worst in him. When he wasn't humiliating himself both in public and in private to retain Jake English's frivolous loyalties, he was making a spectacle out of himself over some pathetic melodrama. Eventually he'd understood: no matter your intentions, yanking people around only works when you don't do it out in the open.
So telling people the truth didn't work out for him. Some truths are just too unpalatable.]
[Null][1/2]
Like this extraneous Jane that's been limping along somewhere beyond canon for three goddamn years. He can't bring himself to care about her, even if he wanted to. He's stopped just short of saying so in those words, but he can only tell her how little she matters here so many times before it becomes painfully obvious it's not sticking.
He's so incredibly tired and so goddamn fucking wired; hearing just how transparent that is only intensifies it, both the wash of feverish energy and intense feverlike drain. Her inevitable belligerence is one thing, but ignoring his direct message (Goodbye, Jane) in favour of digging for some secret message buried between the lines is toeing the absolute limit of his patience.
So much for doing her a favour.
The kicker is that he'd tried her idea of 'communication' for a while, having been sold on the idea of it as a necessary part of bettering himself as a person. Asking for help. Admitting to personal struggle. That kind of thing. It made sense at the time. But it turned out that the merits of sharing his 'sincere' feelings depended on a whole mess of assumptions. Assumptions that were proven false by a fast-growing body of evidence.
He'd never been able to ignore the facts, unlike some people.
And the truth was this: it encouraged the worst in him. When he wasn't humiliating himself both in public and in private to retain Jake English's frivolous loyalties, he was making a spectacle out of himself over some pathetic melodrama. Eventually he'd understood: no matter your intentions, yanking people around only works when you don't do it out in the open.
So telling people the truth didn't work out for him. Some truths are just too unpalatable.]