“I thought you loved me.” “I don’t.” “But you said…” “I don’t love you. In fact, I don’t even like you that much.” “Then why would you make me believe…” “I told you, I only meant it at the time.” “But you promised…” “Promised what?” “Promised that you would love me even if I stop loving you.” “Well, I don’t love you. I told you. How do you want me to express this clearer? How stupid can you be?” “But what if I still love you?” “Then stop loving me.” “What if I can’t?” “Yes, you can. No one can love someone forever. You are not in love with me. You are in love with yourself. You are in love with the idea of me.” “So there is no chance that I just might be in love with the real you? You don’t believe me?” “Why would I? I’ve seen the way you gazed at the moon, gazed at the city, gazed at him, gazed at yourself in the mirror, but the way you looked at me…was it love?” “You don’t believe that I love you.” “I don’t. You don’t trust me. You don’t believe in me. You hurt me. You are the worst of all. You are like my mother. I blame everything on you. Everything.” “Don’t go.” “I’m going.” “Please stay.” “I’m going.” “Are you sure?” “I still…” “I know. I do too.”