Life. Pain. Responsibility. All those shackles that weigh you down and make getting out of bed a chore. Make looking people in the eye almost impossible. Sometimes it hurts so much, you feel like there's a hole sucking the world in through your chest. You're nothing but a hole; empty, black, hollow. Sometimes... sometimes just letting that go is easier than trying to find something to fix it.

[His head is rolled a little on the back of the couch, letting blue eyes meet brown as he lays it all out there for the man who'd let him in his home.]