I can't be with you.
Why? Why do you keep saying that?
Because I know I'm the rebound.
That's what you said it was.
You're not the rebound anymore.
I can't do this!
Look. Look at me. I love you. Why are you crying?
Because I know you don't love me.
Stop. Please stop.
Or you love me now. But you'll stop.
How could I stop loving you?
When you have to take care of me, you will.
No, please. Please just listen to me. Why are you saying this?
You want this? You want this body?...Sweetheart. You don't want this.
Please stop. Please.
You don't want to take care of me all the time. You don't want to clean me. You don't want another kid.
I'm not afraid.
Well I am. Let me go.
He held me close to him and said this. Kissed me and said this. Abandoned me on my front porch, left in his car crying. Dumped me because he loved me. My inclination is to make a joke here, something vaguely Seinfeld-ian, but nothing about this is remotely funny. Nothing at all.