Even when I tried, when I wanted them, it wasn’t enough. Maybe- maybe they just don’t want me, maybe even with the memories you never had anything there.
Get out!
Get out of my head! But wherefore dost thou wrestle for thy own peace? We art thy sole company, the very marrow of your life. Sweet Sirrah abandon this fray, ‘gainst thy own deliverance. Thou mustn’t fight it any longer. The more thy heart doth beat against this tide, the stronger shall our currents bear thee onward, whether thou wouldst have it so or not.
B- and whyfore should you? Perchance, to plumb the deepest caverns of thy heart, where buried long thine own desires do lie, is our sole aim. I know, by truth's own mirror, what thou doth crave. And if thou wouldst but trust thy loyal friends, we shall deliver it to thee. Thou needst but loose the leash of Helm, and all shall be as thou hast dreamt it.
So, have we an accord?