A shattered heart can be heavier than a broken limb.

I would close my eyes and sleep and when I awoke, this would all have been a dream. Even though there was pain, even though I could feel everything, this would be a dream because it couldn’t be real.

Gus wondered if normal people carried their grief like he did. He wondered if normal people carried it for the rest of their lives like he thought he would. It didn't hurt as much as it once had, but sometimes the scar broke apart and it was all he could do to breathe through it.

The bastard. How dare he? I was drowning in a fucking river that he was still attempting to save me from, and he was telling me he was going to push me back in and hold me under. My father's death had nearly destroyed me. Cal's death would finish me.