Broken Boulder there’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back

The boy resisted the urge to flinch at the assumption that Lennon would be leaving. He would never-- would he?
Lennon isn't going anywhere. Ali blurted too quickly, and hot shame rose in his face as he realized how uncertain he sounded. His own gaze drifted, too, but skyward rather than to their home. He's... I don't know if he's going to get better, though.
As far as Alarian knew, things like this were never quite fixed. He had been raised on this certainty, on fear of it-- and now it weighed on him painfully. It was truth, to him-- sharp-edged and heavy, cutting into him brutally and deliberately. The onset of grief was agonizingly sedated for this reason; Lennon's descent illustrated the most painful fact of life.
There were things worse than death.
So I guess we have to move on either way. He swallowed hard after saying it, at once feeling too callous, too casual about it. I won't abandon what we've made here. Or any of you.