He threaded his fingers with mine and looked down at our joined hands for a very long time. “You’re right,” he said at last, looking up at me. “Being driven to the point of madness by pain and horrific hallucinations won’t kill me, no. But it’s no life. At least not one that I want to live. And I won’t be safe. I’ll end up hurting the people I care about. In the very least, I’ll be a burden, and I won’t saddle you or anyone else with the burden of caring for me. That’s just not happening.”
