Ginsberg's starts and stops and insecurities are all but inaudible to Ned, in his current frame of mind. One of the side-effects of being in so much pain himself, today, is that it makes him hard to be as attuned as he usually is to the usual social cues.

Again, that pause as Ned considers his options. Is it right to inflict himself, in this mood, on Ginsberg? That'd be poetic justice, wouldn't it, if he said yes and then ended up annoying him so much that he drove him away, today of all days. Some corner of his mind is convinced that's what is going to happen, that he should brace himself for it.

"I won't be very good company," he warns, because maybe if he lets Ginsberg know it advance, he can mitigate the damage. At the very least he ought to know what he's getting himself into. Then comes the hard part - admitting his own weakness, his own need. Feeling almost unbearably vulnerable as he does, Ned admits, "But, um. Yeah. It would be really good, actually. Not to be alone today. And you're sort of the only person I know, so... if you're willing to put up with me. Yes."