“Let me tell you a story,” said he with a smile.

“Oh, give me a break,” she said, annoyed.

“Hear me out, won't you?”

“No, I will not hear you out...Don't try to change the topic.”

“Why not? Wouldn't you rather hear my lovely story as opposed to dealing with this?”

“Please,” she scoffed, “nothing can change reality.”

“Haven't you seen Inception? How do you know if this is not a dream?” he mused ever so slyly.

“Well, if it's a dream, it's horrible and I want to wake up.”

“What would you do if you woke up?”

“I don't know, make breakfast? Shower?”

“Hm, you know what I would do if I woke up from this nightmare?”

“No.”

“I would tell you a story.”

“And I wouldn't hear of it, let go of my hand, will you?”

“Am I irritating?”

“At the moment, very much.”

“You'd feel better after you hear my story.”

“I doubt it.”

“You doubt a lot of things, but you are hardly ever right.”

“I'm right about us.”

“No, you're not.”

“That's just what you think.”

“You're thinking of running away from us, why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn't I? It's coming to an ugly end.”

“So how will you run away when death comes.”

“Death is natrual, this is...”

“What, conflicts aren't natural? D'you think every other couple live in perfect harmony, that no one else argue?

“Not like us they don't”

“That's only 'cause we have passion, they are dull and flat.”

“No, because we are breaking apart.”

“Now let me tell you a story-”

“No, stop! You can't keep trying to escape the problem. You accuse of me from escaping, aren't you doing the same with this 'story' business?”

“A well done rebuttal. Fine, I won't tell you my story.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you.”

“Don't say that, it's just as bad,” she groaned.

“Say you love me.”

“No.”

“Why not? I know you love me, there's nothing to hide.”

“I can't help what you think.”

“You're so bitter.”

“I wonder why...”

“You sure you don't want to hear my story?”

“Of course I am!”

“So what do we do now?”

“Now we shake our hands-”

“Shake our hands?”

“-Yes, and say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“Yeah, give me your hand, oh, give it to me! See, shake it, and say 'goodbye'”

“I don't want to.”

“It's not a matter of want.”

“I don't wish to say it.”

“You have to, for the sake of us.”

“For the sake of us? If you cared at all you wouldn't be talking about this goodbye crap!” he yelled, waving his hands in anger.

“I don't care? The only reason I'm saying goodbye is because I care too damn much!”

“At least I'm trying to make it work! At least I want you enough to beg you to stay!”

“Look at us! We can't keep from yelling for a moment! Is this what you want? Just constant, daily screaming and yelling and shouting?”

“I-I-of course not, I don't want to yell at you. Are you crying?”

“I'm not crying. It's just so bloody frustrating!”

“I do love you, I do want you to stay, I want to do whatever I can to keep you.”

“There' nothing you can do, you've got to let it go.”

“But it hurts.”

“You'll get over it, that's what Father Time's for.”

“What if I don't want to get over it? I don't want to ever forget you.”

“Then that's quite a dilemma.”

“Would you like to hear my story now?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“'Cause I know what you'll say. And I don't need to hear it.”

“You do? See, you know me so well.”

“Shake my hand. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Amy.”

“Wait, Paul!”

“What?”

“You asked me earlier, what I would do if I woke up from this horrible dream...”

“Yeah?”

“I would kiss you one last time.”