[ It's not her intimacy that concerns him: it's the weight of his own past and uncertain future, his doubts, his neuroses that've built from his feet and have paralyzed him until, for a while, he forgot how to breathe. But here's Oona, with all her patience and her candidness, giving him words he never feels like he earned.
For 20 years, Adolf's barely shed a tear— not for himself, at least. Not for others, either, not in a long time. They'd dried up with the rest of him, buried themselves with his parents a long while ago.
So he wonders why it is that he wants to cry now, as pathetic as that is, as inappropriate as it would be in this moment, tangled in Oona and her hair and her warmth. ]
For a while [ he says, when he finally manages to squeeze words out a throat that feels too tight ], that's all I wanted.
[ To find someone, to let them find him. He takes a deep breath, draws Oona closer so she can hear his heart racing three tempos too fast, to let her know that this is exactly what she does to him. ]
I thought that I could do that. Love someone. [ Finding words is like grasping for straws in the dark, and it's difficult: nothing sounds quite right. ] —So it was hard, yeah. When I found out that she'd been taking her ring off. Seeing other people.
[ Admitting that is a weight off his shoulders, and he slumps into Oona, puts his forehead between her collarbone. ]
If this is enough... if I'm enough, despite that. [ And when he exhales this time around, it's almost a laugh. A real one, not disguised under any other sentiment. A proper one, one that's meant to convey happiness, nothing else. ] I'm yours.
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For 20 years, Adolf's barely shed a tear— not for himself, at least. Not for others, either, not in a long time. They'd dried up with the rest of him, buried themselves with his parents a long while ago.
So he wonders why it is that he wants to cry now, as pathetic as that is, as inappropriate as it would be in this moment, tangled in Oona and her hair and her warmth. ]
For a while [ he says, when he finally manages to squeeze words out a throat that feels too tight ], that's all I wanted.
[ To find someone, to let them find him. He takes a deep breath, draws Oona closer so she can hear his heart racing three tempos too fast, to let her know that this is exactly what she does to him. ]
I thought that I could do that. Love someone. [ Finding words is like grasping for straws in the dark, and it's difficult: nothing sounds quite right. ] —So it was hard, yeah. When I found out that she'd been taking her ring off. Seeing other people.
[ Admitting that is a weight off his shoulders, and he slumps into Oona, puts his forehead between her collarbone. ]
If this is enough... if I'm enough, despite that. [ And when he exhales this time around, it's almost a laugh. A real one, not disguised under any other sentiment. A proper one, one that's meant to convey happiness, nothing else. ] I'm yours.