"I spent the last- nearly two years, now, in this world of yours, in either a cell, a combat situation, or a warlike state. Before that, I was trying to evacuate a loathed batch of refugees from all corners of the globe onto one ship, watching more of my friends and people be murdered every day. For years before that, we were at war- for a portion of that, I was a prisoner in my own time. I haven't had the freedom to think about the shapes of my desires since I was a foot shorter, a young twenty something."

Trying to explain for him.

"I remember it, but half of it would have memories attached too painful to touch on. The other half I'm sure I've grown out of. I don't know what I like."