❝ Do you think it’s too late for me? ❞
bojack horseman || not accepting.
her smile is strained; a practiced motion that doesn’t feel quite natural. she wonders why he’s asking her, of all people-- her, the woman who murdered the man she loved in his sleep, who spent years taking lives for fun, who still gets a thrill at the base of her spine when she takes a shot. who is she to judge?
(a better question: who is she?
with all her searching, she still hasn’t found an answer.)
“if it’s too late for you, cher, then there’s no hope for me.”
a statement of fact. she struggles to find an appropriate emotion for the realization, and finds herself slipping back into cold, numb nonchalance.
“your fate is your own. who cares what others think of as ‘too late’?”
