— What took you so long?
— I just walked in.
— Hmmm. Do you miss me?
— Oddly enough, I do.
— Ha Ha! You said, "I do." I guess that means we're married.
— I guess so.
— It would be different... if we could just give it another go around.
— Remember me. Try your best. Maybe we can.
I'm Clementine. Can I borrow a piece of your chicken? And you picked it out of my plate before I could answer and it felt so intimate like we were already lovers.
— Wait.
— What?
— I don't know. Just wait. Just wait.
— What do you want, Joel?
— I don't know. I want you to wait for... just a while.
I really like that you're nice right now. I mean, I can't tell from one moment to the next what I'm gonna like, but right now... I'm glad you are.
— What if it breaks?
— ''What if'? Do you really care right now?
— I'm gonna marry you. I know it.
— Um... okay.
And wish me a happy Valentine's Day when you call! That'd be nice!
So what if you take me somewhere else, somewhere where I don't belong, and we hide there till morning?
— You're not a stalker or anything, right?
— I'm not a stalker. You're the one that talked to me. Remember?
— That is the oldest trick in the stalker book.
— Really? There's a stalker book? Okay. I gotta read that one.
— You don't tell me things, Joel. I'm an open book. I tell you everything. Every damn embarrassing thing. You don't trust me.
— You don't have to be afraid of silence, Clementine. Constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating.
— I don't do that. I want to know you. I don't constantly talk. Jesus. People have to share things. That's what intimacy is. I'm really pissed that you said that to me.
— I'm sorry. I just don't have anything very interesting about my life.
- 1
- 2