You are beautiful. And you are unpredictable. But you’re so cautious. You’re determined Beth, but you know something? You’re not strong. And I don’t know if you’re really giving. Tell me something. Do you love me? Do you really love me? … We would have been all right if there hadn’t been any mess. But you can’t handle mess. You need everything neat and easy. I don’t know. Maybe you can’t love anybody. It was so much Buck. When Buck died, it was as if you buried all your love with him, and I don’t understand that, I just don’t know, I don’t, maybe it wasn’t even Buck; maybe it was just you. Maybe, finally, it was the best of you that you buried. But whatever it was, I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what we’ve been playing at. So I was crying. Because I don’t know if I love you anymore. And I don’t know what I’m going to do without that.
