[ At least Harold is a good person. Is he? That definition seems so frightfully malleable. Like an optical illusion, you don't quite realize you're seeing something different from the person beside you until you actually start talking about it. Harold has tried so hard and for so long to be a good person by his own definition, and then he'd broken that, to keep a bigger, higher promise.
He doesn't regret doing that, but he still doesn't know what to put in its place. Doesn't he need some new definition? Harold doesn't know how to live without that kind of certainty behind his actions. ]
I do keep trying to avoid having people in my life, [ he retorts in a long-suffering tone, ] but that doesn't seem to be working either.
[ He really does keep trying to just be alone. But whatever being a good person means, it must be incompatible with abandoning those that care for you. Harold is certain of that much. (It's why when he thinks of his father--) No. Not the time. ]
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He doesn't regret doing that, but he still doesn't know what to put in its place. Doesn't he need some new definition? Harold doesn't know how to live without that kind of certainty behind his actions. ]
I do keep trying to avoid having people in my life, [ he retorts in a long-suffering tone, ] but that doesn't seem to be working either.
[ He really does keep trying to just be alone. But whatever being a good person means, it must be incompatible with abandoning those that care for you. Harold is certain of that much. (It's why when he thinks of his father--) No. Not the time. ]