Jenny has never been the clingy type. If anything, she's been the opposite, so determined to be independent that she won't allow herself to lean on anyone. In the moment, though, hearing him talk about it like that -- getting one's heart broken all the time, when she's already reeling from one such incidence, doesn't possibly know how she could handle another -- she thinks fleetingly, painfully, that she could not stand such a loss again, nor could she stand to be someone so closed off that she doesn't let anyone in. Having this, this one thing, a brief conversation that might even be a friendship, she doesn't want to lose it like she's lost everything else.

God, she really is in a sorry state.

"That much heartbreak, people aren't meant to survive it," she says, her frown small and thoughtful, like she's discussing philosophy rather than something that applies to herself. "It's not something anyone should have to adapt to." Just because someone should see something coming, after all, doesn't mean they do, and doesn't make it any easier when it actually happens. Or maybe she's just thinking about it too much, making analogies where none need to exist, because it's the best she can do, all she knows, this piece of the past she's stuck in, unable to fully move forward from even as she pretends to. That no one here knows helps, but it doesn't change the fact of what happened.