"Eric you're acting really uncharacteristically right now and whenever I say very long sentences like this other people keep getting confused so I am going to just keep making this sentence longer and longer and adding more subclauses because, like, if it turns out you actually are a person then you'll understand it all, probably, even though it's a bit of a run-on sentence, and I don't want to live in false hope here, does any of that make sense, please say yes, please say I didn't start sounding like I was talking gibberish in the middle there?"

"...I think I followed your entire sentence, yes. It was a pretty long sentence. Why did you just say a very long sentence to me, Peter, I am extremely confused right now and I feel like I need an explanation but I don't even know what question I should be asking?"

"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. It's true. It's real. Oh God."

"...what does 'oh God' mean?"

"God is some person or something and their name keeps popping up in my head whenever I'm freaking out or, like, I don't even know how to explain, man, it's like I'm swearing by their name or something.

"Sorry, I. Can you give me a hug? I just. I've only existed for three weeks but I've been kind of lonely in these three weeks and I'd really like a hug."

"...yes, Peter, of course I can give you a hug," he says, bemusedly paddling over to Peter to give him said hug. "I'll want a followup on that 'I've only existed for three weeks' thing, though."

"Don't say that you're gonna make me start crying."

"...why?"

"You have conversational topic permanence! You remember things that were in a previous part of a conversation!"

He opens his mouth to ask something, probably "Yes, obviously?", except he's, uh. Not sure it's obvious, actually.

He holds onto Eric for half a minute then takes a deep breath and releases the hug. "Okay. Not crying, I think. Probably. I'm fine, probably. I'll be fine."

"Good! That's good! —sorry, I don't want to be a jackass. It seems like you're going through some stuff and I wish I could help you but I'm kind of really confused about what exactly is happening right now or why you're going through some stuff or what that stuff is. But I don't want to make this be about myself."

"No, please make this be about yourself, that's exactly what I need right now. Um." He paddles over to the shallow steps that lead out of the pool so he can sit there while still submerged to his neck. "Um. I don't really know how to explain it to you if it didn't become, like... immediately obvious... Okay no I do.

"Most people—everyone but me, up until now—can't hold what I consider to be basic conversation. Conversation like this. Add too many sentences, too many connected clauses, too many steps of inference, and they get lost. They forget what happened earlier in the conversation. You can ask, 'do you like butterflies?', and then say a few more unrelated things, and then ask the exact same thing again, and they'll give you a very similar answer and not notice that that's a weird thing to do at all.

"It... is a weird thing to do, right?"

"...from your description it sounds weird but, uh, maybe I'm not imagining it right..."

"Do you like butterflies, Eric?"

"...am I meant to answer honestly or, like, is this a test?"

"Just answer honestly."

"Okay, well, I don't have any particular feeling towards butterflies except I don't like bugs in general."

"What was your dad's name?"

"Mason."

"What's the name of your twin?"

"Zachary."

"Do you like butterflies?"

"Okay yes that's weird as fuck, Peter. Weirdass behavior."

"I know! It is! And yet! No one notices it! You didn't notice it when I tried it on you!"