Jyn might have laughed, if the subject were a different one or if she were talking with anyone else. At least from her perspective, what was fair for her stopped being part of the picture a long time ago, and that was hardly unexpected when nothing in her life had ever fit that description anyway. It wasn't fair that she'd built a life with someone and had it ripped away from her. It wasn't fair that he didn't remember any of it, though through no fault of his own. If that unfairness was already a given, and it was, then it seemed like the least she could do was try to make things a little fairer for him.
But, more and more, it seemed like her reticence wasn't fair in its own right. None of that was because of him, specifically. Even now, with his acquaintance with her having lasted about a week, she felt as if he knew her better than just about anyone; there was no one she would have been so willingly vulnerable with. Everything about this was just so unclear, a situation that ought to have been impossible and that she didn't know what to do with.
Keeping it in was apparently not the answer. And maybe she should have expected as much. Years ago, with him but not him, she had asked him more than once not to shut her out. To tell her things. However good her reasoning and understandable her uncertainty, it probably wasn't all that helpful for her to hold so much back.
"It's not that I don't want to," she offered. "And... as strange as it is, that's the one thing that does make sense to me. That you're... you... but also not the person who was here before. I can't really explain it. It just does. And that was all so long ago now, I think if you had been him, and shown up remembering all of it, this would be just as strange in a different way." She had no idea if any of what she was saying was at all comprehensible. Hopefully, though, the fact that she was making an effort would count for something. "I've been without you for longer than I ever knew you. Or him. Either way."
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But, more and more, it seemed like her reticence wasn't fair in its own right. None of that was because of him, specifically. Even now, with his acquaintance with her having lasted about a week, she felt as if he knew her better than just about anyone; there was no one she would have been so willingly vulnerable with. Everything about this was just so unclear, a situation that ought to have been impossible and that she didn't know what to do with.
Keeping it in was apparently not the answer. And maybe she should have expected as much. Years ago, with him but not him, she had asked him more than once not to shut her out. To tell her things. However good her reasoning and understandable her uncertainty, it probably wasn't all that helpful for her to hold so much back.
"It's not that I don't want to," she offered. "And... as strange as it is, that's the one thing that does make sense to me. That you're... you... but also not the person who was here before. I can't really explain it. It just does. And that was all so long ago now, I think if you had been him, and shown up remembering all of it, this would be just as strange in a different way." She had no idea if any of what she was saying was at all comprehensible. Hopefully, though, the fact that she was making an effort would count for something. "I've been without you for longer than I ever knew you. Or him. Either way."