Exactly. It's a title.
You're... good at this sort of thing. Staying, leaving; loving, not loving... it... comes and goes, for you. It's all very... I don't know.
It's ironic, really. I'm supposed to be the one who cares less about things. I normally am.

... I realize that. And really, it's not as if privacy would have made something like this any more acceptable, but...

I still don't understand why it didn't make you uncomfortable. This sort of thing...