It's our last chance.

No. No, I can't... I, no, I need to believe that it isn't our last chance... Eleanor? Can you hear me? I need you to believe it, too.

He'd stopped trying to bring her back.

You think that holding someone hard will bring them closer. You think that you can hold them so hard that you'll still feel them embossed on you, when you pull away.

That's what people say- 'it's not good-bye' - when they're too afraid to face what they're really feeling, I'm not going to see you tomorrow, Park- I don't know when I'll see you again. That deserves more that 'it's not goodbye.'
I'm not afraid to face what I'm feeling.
Not you.
Me.

It's going to be okay.
Right.
Because I love you.
Is that why?
It is, actually.

Ni siquiera puedo respirar cuando no estamos juntos —susurró ella—. Y eso significa que, cuando te veo los lunes por la mañana, tengo la sensación de que llevo sesenta horas sin coger aire. Seguramente por eso refunfuño tanto y te contesto mal. Cuando estamos separados, me paso el tiempo pensando en ti, y cuando estamos juntos me invade el terror. Porque cada segundo cuenta. Y siento que he perdido el control. No soy dueña de mí misma, soy tuya. ¿Qué pasa si de repente te das cuenta de que ya no te gusto? ¿Cómo voy a gustarte tanto como tú me gustas a mí?