Redsand Canyon I don't know the half of it anymore

For a few minutes, he was unable to process her words. The only thing he was aware of was the gaping, black pit in his chest that threatened to break him into a million pieces. His breathing became shallow and he felt light headed. He thought he might pass out but then a scent broke through—Aquene and something else, a plant that may have been in the collective scent of the den before but was much more noticeable now. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as she had instructed. 

He came to as she was telling him not to hold his feelings in. But he didn't know any other way to deal with them. It was always this cycle of avoid until it was too much and then crumble beneath the weight, then back to avoid again. The only difference this time was that there was someone here to witness his weakness. Before now, he had always been alone when he felt this way. Not that he wasn't thankful for her presence; it was the complete opposite. 

Still one thought haunted him. I don't know what I did, he finally said. If I had known, I would have tried— his words fell away. He couldn't finish the sentence. All he could do was try to accept the fact that he had not been enough.