How was it that with all life had thrown at him, Clint still had it in him to look at the world in wonder? If I played a part in that, I’d accept it gladly. It’d get me through the rough patches that came with wanting but not having him. It’d sustain me until the next time I needed something to get through it. There’d be plenty more next times as long as I didn’t own him.
Goodness such a bizarre thing to say. Who is talking like this?
