That Question Which Cannot Be Answered

: Do you like me?
: Very much!
: Then why don't you love me?
: Something happens inside me when I see you—you can call it love if you want, or you don't have to.
: What's your problem with speaking directly?
: Complex things like love never have straightforward answers. But if you insist, I can say "I love you," even write it down for you. Ha ha ha
: You're afraid of making promises, I know everything.
: Say I make a promise and then one day I run away. Would that be good? Or would it be better if I don't make promises and just quietly stay, day after day?
: I'm leaving. I don't feel like talking anymore.
: At least finish your tea!
: You've already finished the conversation—what's the point of finishing the tea?
: You can make things just as complicated! Ha ha... how long have you been practicing?
: You can't be the only one who gets to say complicated things!
: What do you want?
: It's getting to be evening, I want to go home now. You just want to watch me leave anyway!
: I only want to see your sulking. Your eyes, your face, your cheeks full of hurt... you don't give this to anyone but me!
: What does that mean?
: It really is getting to be evening. Go home now.