And while I was falling for you I put a ceil­ing on that, because you were a guy. Until I remem­bered why I opened the door to women in the first place: to not lim­it the like­li­hood of find­ing that one per­son who’d com­ple­ment me so com­plete­ly. So here we are. I was thor­ough when I looked for you. And I feel jus­ti­fied lying in your arms, ’cause I got here on my own terms, and I have no ques­tion there was some place I did­n’t look.

I sup­pose I would have enjoyed Chasing Amy more if the dia­logue had been more believ­able, but I could­n’t buy it.

We don’t live in a Dawson’s Creek world where every­one’s a psy­chol­o­gist, com­plete­ly in tune with their emo­tions and the emo­tions of oth­ers.

People aren’t con­fronta­tion­al in real life either. They don’t say what they mean or mean what they say.

And when you’re try­ing to tell the girl that you’re in love with her, it does­n’t come out as some flow­ery, roman­tic verse, it comes out in jum­bles. You’re trip­ping over your own words cause it’s the girl.

Maybe I was just hop­ing for a love sto­ry that worked out. I would have giv­en in to the sus­pen­sion of dis­be­lief that peo­ple actu­al­ly talk like that, had there been a hap­py end­ing.