“Look, I owe you a kind of explanation. I know you probably think I’m a horrid bitch from the plant Schizophrenia, but I’m honestly not trying to mess with your head. I’m just messing with my own head and I seem to have dragged you along the ride. I think you’re nice to me and that scares the fuck out of me. Because when a guy’s a jerk or an asshole, it’s easier because you know exactly where you stand. Since trust isn’t an option, you don’t have to get all freaked out about maybe having to trust him. Right now I am thinking about ten things at the same time, and at least four of those things have to do with you. If you want to leave right now and drive home and forget my name and forget what I look like, I wouldn’t blame you in the least. But what I’m trying to say is that if you did that I would be sorry. And not just sorry in an I-apologize-I’m-so-sorry way, but sorry in a sad-that-something-that-could’ve-happened-didn’t way. That’s it. You can go now. Or we could stay for Where’s Fluffy when Toni’s set is over. I think they’re playing a surprise show here tonight.”

“I don’t know what came over me. You were in my arms, crying and when I looked down at you I just couldn’t stop myself. It was like someuncontrollable force I just had to kiss you Layla. I know you’re mad and I’m sorry that you feel that way but honestly Layla? It was wonderful. And I’ddo it again in a heartbeat. I’m crazy about you. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, the only thing I thinkabout all day and the last thing I think about at night. You’re my muse. I must have written at least twenty new songs since I met you and they’re allabout you. Your eyes, your smile the way you laugh and the way you make my heart want to tear its way out of my chest when you’re near me. I can’tfight it any more, it’s killing me. I’ve tried to forget it, to get over you but no other girl even compares. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“This kind of thing is so awkward and horrible, and from your end, you know it must… Okay, I’m just going to come out and tell you: I’m asking you out. That’s what I’m doing. Please don’t answer yet, because I know you might have a “No” queued up in your head already, but will you please let me say a few things? I know that being a woman in New York must be hard, because it’s basically disappointing that you try to be nice to men as human beings, and then they respond by just torpedoing to your vagina. And I want you to know that I’m aware that you’re young and beautiful - and I’m not… either of those things. And part of me knows that as soon as my lips stop moving, you’re going to say no. But please think of the fact that it’s low risk what I’m asking. You just come out with me for a drink, and even if you got up in the middle of the one drink, I wouldn’t hold it against you. Just make a judgement based on nothing horrible would happen if you came out with me. I think you’re so attractive. I’m attracted to you because you’re nice, and you’re a decent person, and those are probably the reasons you want people to be attracted to you, right? Also, you’re horribly cute. I mean, you’re cute as hell. And I grow on people - women. Some times go by, and you get past the bald head and that I sweat a lot and I’m lumpy… I’ve run out of things to say. Can you just tell me now? Did this work?”

“He’s sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don’t be a bitch about this. And don’t screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you’ll forget everything else.And that’s exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn’t want to forget everything else, or the next thing I knew, he’d be back on that roof, putting his life in danger.“You don’t get to do this,” I said finally.“Do what?” He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. “I”m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say, Chloe. That I’m sorry.”“For what?”He looked up, confused. “Making you mad.”I didn’t answer, just got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn’t look back at him. I didn’t dare. But I stopped and I listened.“When I got mad about you leaving,” he said, “it wasn’t because I thought it was stupid or I didn’t think you’d be careful.”“You were just worried about me.”An exhale, relieved that I understood. “Yeah.”I turned. “Because you think I’m worth it.”He put his fingers under my chin. “I absolutely think you’re worth it.”“But you don’t think you are.”His mouth opened. Shut.“That’s what this is about, Derek. You won’t let us worry about you because you don’t think you’re worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”

“I’m not, even if you think I am. But no matter what this started out as…an accident, fate, whatever—I’m glad you found me that night. Not because of what happened, but because of now. Because I get to be here with you. And I’m scared, too, but—but thank you for telling me today. Thank you for trusting me with that. I’ve never…” I pressed my lips together, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone. And I’m not really sure what falling in love feels like, but I think—I know I have. With you.”

“Dear Willem:I’ve been trying to forget about you and our day in Paris for nine months now, but as you can see, it’s not going all that well. I guess more than anything, I want to know, did you just leave? If you did, it’s okay. I mean it’s not, but if I can know the truth, I can get over it. And if you didn’t leave, I don’t know what to say. Except I’m sorry that I did.I don’t know what your response will be at getting this letter, like a ghost from your past. But no matter what happened, I hope you’re okay.”