#requa

I haven't... had many chances to actually be "nice" to people. I try, and it comes off as awkward and stilted- like a little kid forcing to apologize for something he meant to do and stands by it. ... That sums me up pretty well, actually...

Anyway... God, I'm not good at this... I know I haven't always been the most caring person in the world. I'm cynical. Angry. Hateful. And, somehow... for some fucking reason that I can't even begin to understand... you put up with it.

I've been stubborn from the moment we met, but you just... didn't give up. Most people I've known- and met, before you- would have just walked away. They wouldn't have- and didn't- bother with me. But you didn't. I don't know if it was because you thought I was a good food source, or what, but...

Thank you, Requa. I'd never admit it out loud, but you saved me. Bringing me food, even though I never really thanked you. Being treated nicely isn't something I'm used to. Favors in exchange for my next meal is what I was used to.

You even took me in when those nagas were beginning to close in on my burrow. You barely knew me, yet treated me like... Jesus, like a friend. You helped me settle into city life. Stayed up with me when I had those episodes. When I thought I was back there. You helped me through the days when the noise was too much- too loud for someone who spent most of his life hearing only his own breathing and heartbeat.

The "I love you"s are still... hard to get used to. Never heard that- as a kid or otherwise. I didn't actually know what it meant at first. I just said it back, knowing it would make you happy. But, then...

I began to talk to Miss Dysis and she... explained things to me. Care. Kindness. Love. It made me realize that I wasn't sick, like I thought it was (don't fucking laugh). It made me realize that, for the first time in my life, I felt something other than hatred for someone.

I know I'm not the most loving person in the world. I still have issues that I... probably won't ever get over. I scream, cry, and attack without meaning to. Even when I leave a mark, you just wait until I'm calm enough to talk to. And you do just that. You talk. You listen.

Ugh, I got way too mushy. Good thing I'm hiding this piece of shit letter anyway. You'll never read it.

...

But if you do. Remember that I'll always love you, you big, horny piece of shit.