He was right. I knew the score. He’d never pretended it was other than it was--whatever the hell that was.

I’d never kidded myself there was any chance for us. Well, not often anyway.
I guess my mistake had been in believing he was too smart and too honest not to eventually realize…

Not his feelings for me--because I didn’t think what he felt for me was that significant--but his own true nature. How could he deny what he was? How could he choose to live such a profound and cancerous deception?