“And he says, “I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. And I think I realized that I’maverage, that there’s nothing remarkable about me. And I wanted to know if this is something otherpeople think about.”

“I don’t think I’m special. I want you to know that,” Odile says sharply. “I don’t think I’m better than everybody else.”

“He wants to say: First ofall, you were wrong about pop music. And art and all of pop culture. And all kinds of things.Because all of it matters. Even if it is awful. Everybody knows all the bad movies and the badsongs on the radio. Because it’s the only thing anybody has in common anymore. It’s all anybodyhas. So you were wrong about that and you were wrong about us and you were wrong about me,but he doesn’t actually say any of this out loud.”

“I'm still trying to figure things out too. All I know is a couple of very unimportant things.”

“We’re adults,” he says quickly. “I’m only here to work. I won’t bother you or anything.”“Fine,” she says. “Great.”“Great,” he repeats.“We’re too good of work friends anyways.”“We are?”“I mean, we’re probably too much alike,” she says.“Yeah, it would be too weird. If things didn’t work out.”“These things never work out,” she says.“Exactly,” he says.“Exactly.”“Right,” he adds. “Exactly.”“And who needs all the weirdness?”

“I’ve been thinking alot and it’s not that anyone did anything wrong. We just didn’t know what we wanted. We weren’t thepeople we were supposed to be yet,”

“I did a bad thing tonight, one of the most terrible things ever: I waited for her to fall asleep, then stole the sheet from under her head. I am missing you or maybe just the idea of you. I have begun seriously thinking about other men. I am afraid I am not strong enough or tough enough for this. I am afraid all the time. I have not slept well in months. When are you coming back, you jerk? We are all trying to be brave without you and doing a real crummy job of it. I do not want to have to be brave anymore without you.”