Everybody says time heals everything,
It hadn't been that bad. It really hadn't.
It had hurt, but -- that time before had been so much worse. This shouldn't even have made him flinch.
Time had gone disjointed again; pieces were still missing. It had felt like that time before had been repeating, and even though he knew that was crazy, he couldn't untangle it all just yet.
He shouldn't have been shaking when it happened. Shouldn't be shaking now, or have his heart still pounding hard against his ribs. The sick feeling that had settled in was barely good for keeping him grounded.
God (or Devil, or whoever was listening), if he was going to fall apart whenever he saw that face, what was he supposed to do?