“I spent so much time telling myself that this wasn't home that I started to believe it,” she said carefully. “Belonging has always been tough for me.”“I can be your home,” he said quietly. “Belong to me.”

“I've always tried to make a home for myself, but I have not felt at home in myself. I've worked hard at being the hero of my own life. But every time I checked the register of displaced persons, I was still on it. I didn't know how to belong. Longing? Yes. Belonging? No.”

“I'm not like you, Mal. I never really fit in the way that you did. I never belonged anywhere.""You belonged with me," he said quietly."No, Mal. Not really. Not for a long time.”

“I know,” he said, very softly. “Let’s go home. Let’s go home, and you can tell me whatever you want, and I’ll believe you.”

“Has he ever even said he loved you?""He's been telling me for years," she said softly, "I just wasn't listening”

“She belonged to me," He said simply. "She was , you know, all the things I wasn't. And I was all the things she wasn't. She could paint circles around anyone; I can't even draw a straight line. She was never into sports; I've always been." He lifted his outstretched palm and curled his fingers. "Her hand," he said. "It fit mine.”