Friday, 21 January 2011


- I love you.


- Why?

- What?

- Why do you love me?

- I... Don't know. I just do. You make me happy.

- Do I, really? I mean, we've been going out for what, 2 months? How can you know you're happy because of me? Maybe you're just having a good couple of months. For all we know you could lose your job tomorrow, break your leg next week and then break up with me cause I drink all the milk and then put the bottle back in the fridge or something.

- Was that you?

- It doesn't matter. All I'm saying is: you don't love me. You may like me. A lot. But love is just too much.

- But I do! I love being with you, I love looking at you, every moment away from you is like hell to me.

- Well, that's not love. That's some weird kind of psychological addiction.

- So what if it is? I still love you.

- No you don't.

- Why are you saying all this? Why can't you just accept that I love you? Why do you keep trying to prove me wrong?

- Cause you are wrong. Love is huge. It's never-ending, intense in its mildness. It makes the small things seem huge and the big ones seem irrelevant. It gives life a reason. It's beautiful and awful all at the same time. Love is not like they show it in tv. It's not about liking someone, fucking him a couple of times, having a big talk with him where you tell each other about your endless love and go get married. It's not that simple.

- Sometimes it is.

- It's not.

- How do you know?

- I just do.

- So you're saying you don't like me?

- No. I'm saying you shouldn't go around saying you love people like you were asking them to pass the salt shaker.

- But I really do love you!

- Really? So when you see me everything leaves your mind and you just enjoy the moment, right? When you know we're gonna see each other you look forward to it like a child looks forward to Christmas, and when we're together you feel like the luckiest guy in the world, right?

- Yes, exactly.

- Well babe, sorry to inform you, that's infatuation. That goes away in six months at most.

- ... Look, I don't know what's wrong with you today, but I'm gonna leave, ok? You're obviously not in a good mood, and I don't wanna turn this into a fight.

- We're not fighting.

- Whatever. I'm going now. I just don't know why you think you know what I'm feeling. How do you know so much about love, anyway?

He leaves.

"... Cause I love you."