Mary: I’ll take it. Then what?
George: Well, then you can swallow it, and it’ll all dissolve, see… and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair… am I talking too much?
i’m not a romantic. god, no. i’ve always sort of fumbled around a bunch when it comes to that. i have an unfortunate perpetual fear of relationships and commitment (a fear that i am trying hard to overcome.) but this one scene makes me crave someone to share it with, always. it makes me want someone who will promise me something as intangible as the moon. this is my romance – not flowers, not rehearsed love soliloquies, just two people acknowledging how ridiculous love makes them, understanding that these intangible promises are not for the moon, but for the heart.
like Neruda says – loving without knowing how, or why, or from where. just knowing that it is there.