[michael is a lot more fastidious about putting hte books right in the shelf that has no real significant order than wanda is, but she makes no comment as he walks away for a moment to put the book in another shelf. she will just make a pile of three books by the time he’s back to the shelf they were accommodating together.]

You have dealt with the reality of divinity and god at a close range, though. Matt’s just — [a fanboy] — a believer. One of many. I would imagine that it would be easier for you to digest all this.

[knowing what is and isn’t, what exists and what doesn’t, how it affects ‘the grand scheme of things’ and all.

but, she’s not here for a philosophical conversation. rather, she just blurts out:]

He said he loved me. [fanboy, indeed.] He’d make it work for my sake, but I don’t— [it’s moving too soon, isn’t it? feels like, sometimes. there is no real measure to time when it comes to things like this. wanda’s worries are, as usual, larger than herself. her piling up books for michael to organize slows down significantly, her voice taking on a quiet quality, muffled, mumbled, downward as her head tilts towards the floor, glancing down at her hands that are now devoid of any books to put up.] Nothing good ever happens to those I love.