“Have I not been?” he says, just as surprised. “I have been secretive and erratic and—I know that I have not been easy to be friends with.”

With all his paranoias and neuroses and shadows, it’s all he can think about. How every instance of his unhappiness upon another must be at best, an opportunity to feel better about helping someone needy, and at worst, a burden. He’s a mess, broken in his core, and somewhere in his mind he can still hear what 2’s Village has beat into him hundreds of times: a still tongue makes a happy life. How can he be casual company for him?

It must be terrible, for Radar to find that his friend has gone from comforting to exhausting.