[ A pause, and the tension—the feisty overreaction, maybe, to the implication he might not know his own mind—bleeds out. ]

I know.

[ Gentler now. ]

I know. It’s alright.

I love you. And it’s not a splinter in my heart that someone can pull out with pliers. It is my heart. And the rest of me. [ Brightening a little, holding the cheesiness out like a hand: ] I love you with all my heart and all my teeth and all my toenails.