“There are so many movies like this, where you thought you were smarter than the screen but the director was smarter than you, of course he's the one, of course it was a dream, of course she's dead, of course, it's hidden right there, of course it's the truth and you in your seat have failed to notice in the dark.”

“I know you can't see it, not you, Ed, but maybe if I tell you the whole plot you'll understand it this once, because even now I want you to see it. I don't love you anymore, of course I don't, but there's still something I can show you. You know I want to be a director, but you never truly see the movies in my head and that, Ed, is why we broke up.”

“...and then of course the music sprang up, lousy rock as bold and dull as a giant potato. “Love this song,” Todd said, like it was unusually brave to like what was number one on the radio...”

“It's different," you said. "You've made, Min, everything different for me. Everything's like coffee you made me try, better than I ever - or the places I didn't even know were right on the street, you know? I'm like this thing I saw when I was little, where a kid hears a noise under his bed and there's a ladder there that's never been there before, and he climbs down and, it's for kids I know, but this song starts playing ..." Your eyes were traveling in the treey light.”

“You know I want to be a director, but you could never truly see the movies in my head and that, Ed, is why we broke up.”

“She’s so, everybody’s so stupid, you know? Christian too, Todd, whoever says stupid things, you’re from different worlds, like you dropped here in a spaceship.”I had to say something. “Yeah,” I said. “So—?”“So they can fuck themselves,” you said. “I don’t care, you know?”I felt a smile on my face, tears too.“Because Min, I know, OK? I’m stupid I know, about faggy movies, sorry, fuck, I’m stupid about that too. No offense. Ha! But I want to do it, Min.Any party you want, anything, not go to bonfires. Whatever you want to do, for the eighty-ninth birthday, even though I can’t remember the name.”“Lottie Carson.” I stepped close to you, but you held your hands out, you weren’t done.“And they’ll say things, right? I know they will, of course they will. Your friends are, probably, too, right?”“Yes,” I said. I felt furious, or furiously something, pacing with you and waiting to fall into your moving arms.“Yes,” you said, with a huge grin. “Let’s stay together, I want to be with you. Let’s. Yes?”“Yes.”“Because I don’t care, virginity, different, arty, weird parties with bad cake, that igloo. Just together, Min.”“Yes.”“Like everyone is telling us not to be.”“Yes!”“Because Min, listen, I love you.”I gaped.“Don’t, you don’t have to—I know it’s crazy, Joan says I’ve really lost it, but—”“I love you too,” I said.”

“I could not, of course not, not smile at you.”