....and not a drop of it is your own bloody fault.

[A beat, slow in the throat and even smaller:]

I'm a ruined wretch of a thing, done in by lifetimes without praise or warmth or love. It should hardly shock either of us that I happen to prove eternally incapable of taking a joke. [I can't be like you, unspoken. Half-held.]

So there. There you go, without a drop of fanfare: that's why. And it'll always be why.