He's not my boy. [And whether that was a slip or not, Ian looks pretty disgusted with himself for using that term again.] It's not my responsibility to think about him. He'll turn out like the others. Trust is too strong of a word to use with him, even if that's what I believe. It only bothers you because you don't want to accept it. You don't know what he's really like.

[He lowers his gaze, tapping on the table again.]

I've accepted no one else will compare to him. My happiness was ripped away from me every time I thought it might be within reach. My fate, my curse, is anger and sorrow. Life without him isn't worth living after all. That's what I've learned.