[Watching him all throughout, and waiting for him to pull back and finish his cup before moving to pour him another one. Then she fills her own cup.]

When you have always been defined, in one fashion or another, throughout every single one of your lives and have the misfortune or fortune of remembering every word you have ever spoken, every action you have made, every person you have met...

[Lifting her cup, staring into its contents a moment.]

It becomes difficult to believe in one's own value, especially when it is only too easy to destroy what you love, or to wake up one day and see that you have, inevitably, been left behind what you have chosen to care about.

[Drinking it down now. Looking up and smiling, once again, at Brig.]

You appear to have thought about this a lot.