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"I'm trying to be honest," Thomas blurted, immediately feeling terrible. He put his hands out, but then drew them back to him. He shouldn't be attempting to pull her in when all he wanted to do was lock himself away. "It's not---I didn't---"

But he did. He'd kissed that girl, Greta, and he still couldn't figure out why. There were rumors that something had been in their drinks of the night, as stories had been circulating about many abrupt and random kisses, but Thomas couldn't be sure. He didn't like not knowing what had possessed him to kiss a random girl, but it was no where near the dislike he had for himself, for believing that he was capable of it because of Regina's presence. Her words had been stupid and childish, but the rush of feelings seeing her caused sent Thomas' mind reeling. He had been riled up enough to do something rash, he knew it.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds of simply staring at Samantha, feeling awkward, numb, and miserable, "It was a---really bad break up, and I...I haven't seen her in a long time and...I felt crazed and I'm still not...I thought that I was over----"

Thomas couldn't figure out what he wanted to say or how he wanted to say it. What did he want? He had wanted time to mull things over, to figure out if he was simply reacting to an onslaught of emotions he hadn't been expecting. He wasn't mad that Samantha was here, her arrival just made him feel worse about having these conflicting emotions when he should be enjoying how sweet his girlfriend was. He'd been expecting some time to himself and now he had no idea how to handle a damn thing.

He put his hands over his face, trying to figure things out in the next five seconds. Thomas took a deep breath, dropping his hands. "I'm sorry. I don't think---I'm being fair to you and that kills me." Was he crazy? He was crazy. He wasn't making any sense. "I feel like a mess."