Barbara: You're never coming back to me, are you Bill?

Bill: Never say never, but . . .
Barbara: But no.
Bill: But no.
Barbara: Even if things don't work out with you and Marsha.
Bill: Cindy.
Barbara: Cindy.
Bill: Right. Even if things don't work out.
Barbara: And I'm never really going to understand why, am I?
(Bill struggles . . . it seems as if he might say something more, but then:)
Bill: Probably not.
(Silence. Bill heads for the door. Barbara watches him go and sobs.)
Barbara: I love you . . . I love you . . .
(He stands for a moment, his back to her. He exits. Barbara stands, alone.)

I guess it's about time I really accept that there are certain things that have happened that I will never understand. Questions that, no matter how much I deserve ["deserve"?] answers, will never get answered. I feel like that's admitting defeat, but I guess I'm just going to have to get over it.

Sylvia: Look, I adore Jocelyn, but . . . ah ha, if, "Loving is letting go," then whoever wants Jocelyn is going to have to pry her fingers loose, one by one.