Of course it hurts me Shepard, when you smile at everyone but not at me. You seem to be able to find a charming grin, a hug, reassurance, warmth; for the worst of them. But not for me. It hurts me that you seem to harden when I walk into the room, you don't smile but frown. You give me such cold, hard words. I reply with reciprocating coldness. But inside I am like fudge.
Of course it hurts me. I am alone. One by one the people around me pair up, fall in love, move on. I am frozen in time. Perfect. A statue. A painting. Pretty paintings don't change. It's lonely where I am. The wind is freezing. I am even colder still. Ice queen, that is me.
Of course it hurts me Shepard, when you didn't tell me to talk to my sister. I don't know why I look at you for the reassurance that I need. I don't know why it pains me to know that you do not care. That you never will care. That even though you smile at others, you will never smile at me.
Of course it hurts me, that your body is mine in ways that no other lover can claim. I rebuilt you. I have seen every part of you; I brought you back to life. I saw your strength when you lay dead and broken and I fixed you. I felt your pulse start again underneath my fingers, I saw your lungs take deep breaths, guided by the machines I helped built. Your body is mine. Even if you will never be.
Of course it hurts me Shepard, when you look at me with angry eyes. When you grab my arms and push me into the wall. I know I act like I'm indestructible but I really need you to be a bit more careful with me. I am so hurt and overwhelmed I don't even have the strength to tell you to stop. Tell you that you're hurting me.
Of course it hurts me, your touch is painful. It burns me, forces me to realize that I have been wrong. That I have always been wrong. That you do not belong to me and that you will never belong to me. If I am ice, you are fire and you can never own fire. So warm, you threaten to leave me melted.
Of course it hurts me, Shepard, when I realize that when I was stitching you up, reanimating your very being, I was not making you mine. I was making myself yours. I saved your life. The emphasis is on your life, not mine. I belong to you. Not the other way around. You touch me with such self-righteousness I now understand that it is because you know. You have known all along.