I mean, a trans woman who is so afraid and ashamed of her true self that she literally hides the shape of her spirit behind a mask of thorns? Who is so exhausted and worn out by existence that the only path she can see forward is to purge all that is? Who allows her mask to slip only when brought low by her sister, her sister who is everything she has convinced herself she cannot be, who sees her as she is and offers her love, love that she can only respond to with an envy and longing so deep and hopeless that it hurts me to the bone, and even in that moment she cannot bring herself to believe that maybe her way is wrong, maybe there is good in the world worth fighting for, maybe she could be accepted and embraced for who she is, and so she can only respond to that moment of recognition and love with a last, desperate act of futile violence