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'And the reality is?' I asked her.
'We're you' she said.
'We're you, with all your fuckups
and all the things that make you human -
all your fears,
and lonelinesses,
and confusions...
none of that gets better.
'But we're colder than you are.
Deader.
I miss daylight
and food
and knowing how it feels
to touch someone
and care.
I remember life
and meeting people
as people
and not just as things to feed on
or control,
and I remember what it was
to feel something,
anything,
happy or sad
or anything...'
And then she stopped.
'Are you crying?'
I asked.
'We don't cry,'
she told me.
Like I said,
the woman was a liar.