Otatso Wetlands I'm getting Hickeys from my Bedbugs

Aphrodite answered his loaded question with something that sounded like what mothers might tell their children when they were being bullied. There was certainly wisdom in her words. They can't love themselves. Taikon wasn't sure he "loved" himself, or ever could or would. To him, loving yourself was nothing short of vanity. He struggled here to understand her, but thought carefully about how one who was lost might be unable, incapable, of loving another person.
His brow furrowed and he looked at a nearby tree while she paused between sentences. He knew that though he was for the most part a kind person, he was lost, and had been for a long time. He wondered, then, if he had grown unable to love another. Because Cella's memory poisoned his existence, he could not find real joy in life anymore.
Taikon wondered silently if he would be like this forever. It had been years, yet the pain seemed to be the only friend he had.
As the blue-eyed creature spoke of Donovan, she became flustered. Her breathing quickened and Taikon's challenged expression changed to worry. He stood up as she took several deep breaths, stepping closer to her. Then, she painted a fragile smile on her lips, and he frowned. No, I apologize, I did not mean for that to upset you; I wasn't thinking, he said. He, too, suffered from similar attacks, only he usually was not able to calm himself as she did.
He stared at the ground for a moment, and sat slowly back down. How did.. Taikon struggled with the words, refusing to look her in the eye. He did not want her, or anyone, to know of his own pain. You controlled it. How?