On some level, it was difficult for Sookie to relate— she had never, to her knowledge, been watched closely in a way where her close friends and family could be used as leverage. She hadn't been that important, just a waitress in Bon Temps who acted weirdly now and again, no one worth close surveillance. Even when it came to thinking of the Cold War and all that it had wrought, clear on the screen of her television, Sookie felt that she was distanced from it all. It was slightly after her time. She was nestled away in a sleepy town that couldn't be bothered, most of the time, aside from the occasional person sent out to war, the Terry Bellefleurs of a podunk like Bon Temps.

Nevertheless, she knew what it was like to try to harden one's heart, to distance oneself from friends and beloved. Sookie had never managed, but it wasn't for lack of trying. The fact that she could see into their minds, read thoughts like they were words on a sheet of paper, kept her from drawing too close. It simply didn't seem right.

"See, the thing about love is that... I don't think people can keep themselves away from it, even if they think it's the smart thing to do," Sookie mused, her hands toying with a couple of the chess pieces, admiring the skill of the carvings. "It's not somethin' you can rationalize yourself out of, especially when you don't really have anywhere to run on the island. You can't keep yourself away from other people forever."