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goes again.
I heard it. Probably kids.
- Come on, I'll get it.
- There is no doorbell.
Don't worry. I'll take care of this.
Why me?
There it was again.
- She might mention some letters.
- What?
- You wrote her a few letters.
- I did?
- How many?
- Three a day.
Three a day. We're on six days.
Six times three is 18!
- Well, 20.
- Twenty?
Or so. Yeah.
Nobody there.
- Chris?
- Yes?
Do you know why I came back early?
Every day, every hour,
you sent me something new.
I couldn't stand it anymore.
I had to see you.
It was just letters.
Twenty or so.
- Think of what you wrote.
- I'm trying.
- Wait. I wanna know the real you.
- No, not the real me.
The one I spoke to that night
at the window.
This is the real me.
You know, good ol' Chris.
I like hanging out, mixing it up.
Lifting weights.
I'm into my body.
You don't have to do that with me.
I know you from your letters.
That's the person I love.
Couldn't I just be cute, huh?
Oh, Chris, don't you see?
It wouldn't matter if you were ugly.
- I want you to teach me what you know.
- I play guitar a little.
- I want to travel with you.
- I hate pasta.
- I want to go to concerts with you.
- We could boogie or what?
We can just talk.
Roxanne, I'm just... I'm...
I'm not feeling good.
I gotta go.
So? You coming or not?
Yeah.
- Gonna tell her?
- I can't.
You have to tell her.
It isn't nice.
You got any paper?
I could write her.
I've got a lot of experience at that.
I have paper in the glove compartment.
I'll get it.
- Hi, Chief.
- Hi, Andy.
Roxanne called.
She sounded weird. She wants you
to come over right away.
Jerry, want your rematch?
- He owes me 50 bucks.
- You animal.
Come in.
What is it?
Read this.
"Dear Roxanne.
I've met somebody else
and she's real cute, too.
I hope I haven't hurt you,
but I probably did.
It was really great knowing you...
and now I'm going to be
a dealer in Tahoe.
Yours 'truley'... T-R-U-L-E-Y.
Chris."
Then I found this along with it
under the door.
Read it.
Read it out loud.
"All day long I think,
'Where is she?
What is she doing now? '
Occasionally I see you
on the street and I feel...
the nerves in my stomach...
a wave crashing over me."
It's so him.
Go on.
"I remember everything about you.
Every move, no matter
how insignificant it might seem.
July 11, 2:30 in the afternoon.
L... You changed your hair.
Not that much, but I noticed...
and it was as though...
I had looked at the sun too long.
I could close my eyes
and see it again and again...
the way your hair moved...
your walk, your dress...
everywhere I looked."
It's nice, isn't it?
It has a... I feel...
Finish it.
I did. It just runs out.
You have to turn it over.
"C.D. Wrote this.
Call me. Dixie."
I went through all of the other letters.
They're all in the same hand.
It was your voice that night
under the balcony.
Chris didn't write those letters,
you did.
Yeah. Yeah.
All this time,
right there in front of me...
and I couldn't even see you.
You bastard!
How could you trick me like that?
- I was trying to make you feel good.
- You're playing with my emotions!
I wasn't playing with you.
You could've figured it out.
- Now it's my fault?
- As much as mine.
The signatures don't match
the handwriting on the letters.
When you get love letters,
you don't compare signatures.
You know why? You wanted to believe it.
You wanted it all.
All the romance and emotion...
wrapped up in a cute,
little nose and ass!
You even got me in bed.
What about that? You went to bed
with him on your first date.
Only because you seduced me.
You went to bed with him fast!
A few frilly words,
you're counting ceiling tiles.
I don't even consider
that I went to bed with him.
Somebody was up there,
and for goddamn sure it wasn't me!
If it wasn't you, who was it?
Chris couldn't have seduced me.
That was the point
I was making to Dixie.
You told Dixie?
I just mentioned...
You son of a bitch!

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