Malcolm breathed out a laugh down into his soup, then took a sip before looking at Raylan.
“I date. I’ve dated,” he said with what might have almost been an attempt at bravado, if it hadn’t faltered so immediately and thoroughly. “It doesn’t, as a rule, go well,” he admits more soberly. “I have yet to find the sweet spot, for example, of when to tell them who I am. If they know before we go out… they don’t go out with me. If I wait until they have a chance to get to know me first and like me on my own merits… if I tell them then, they feel like they’ve been deceived by a monster… and it’s still better than when they find out from somebody else,” he added with a wince. He looked at Raylan again. “The last person I went out with was a lawyer that was working on a charity project with my mother. She knew who we were. She knew who I was. She agreed to go out with me. It… didn’t go well. I… said the wrong thing and she left. Anyway, later that night, she came by my apartment to… give me another chance. I didn’t restrain myself. I… wanted her to think I was normal. But I walked in my sleep. I confronted a nightmare in my sleep. I grabbed a knife off the counter and I almost stabbed her in my sleep. She ran. She won’t take my calls. …And that was neither the quickest nor the most awful end to a relationship I’ve ever had, either.”
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“I date. I’ve dated,” he said with what might have almost been an attempt at bravado, if it hadn’t faltered so immediately and thoroughly. “It doesn’t, as a rule, go well,” he admits more soberly. “I have yet to find the sweet spot, for example, of when to tell them who I am. If they know before we go out… they don’t go out with me. If I wait until they have a chance to get to know me first and like me on my own merits… if I tell them then, they feel like they’ve been deceived by a monster… and it’s still better than when they find out from somebody else,” he added with a wince. He looked at Raylan again. “The last person I went out with was a lawyer that was working on a charity project with my mother. She knew who we were. She knew who I was. She agreed to go out with me. It… didn’t go well. I… said the wrong thing and she left. Anyway, later that night, she came by my apartment to… give me another chance. I didn’t restrain myself. I… wanted her to think I was normal. But I walked in my sleep. I confronted a nightmare in my sleep. I grabbed a knife off the counter and I almost stabbed her in my sleep. She ran. She won’t take my calls. …And that was neither the quickest nor the most awful end to a relationship I’ve ever had, either.”