terça-feira, 30 de dezembro de 2008
harry: i love you.
sally: how do you expect me to respond to this?
harry: how about you love me, too?
sally: how about, i'm leaving.
harry: doesn't what i said mean anything to you?
sally: i'm sorry, harry. i know it's new year's eve. i know you're feeling lonely, but you just can't show up here, tell me you love me, and expect that to make everything all right. it doesn't work this way.
harry: well, how does it work?
sally: i don't know, but not this way.
harry: how about this way? i love that you get cold when it's seventy-one degrees out. i love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. i love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're lookin' at me like i'm nuts. i love that after i spend the day with you, i can still smell your perfume on my clothes. and i love that you are the last person i want to talk to before i go to sleep at night. and it's not because i'm lonely. and it's not because it's new year's eve. i came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.
sally: (feeling manipulated but also melting) you see. that is just like you, harry. you say things like that, and you make it impossible for me to hate you, and i hate you, harry. i really hate you. i hate you.