"I worry that you will get tired of putting up with my undependableness and you will leave me."
Clare puts her sketchbook aside. I sit up. "I won't ever leave you," she says. "Even though you're always leaving me."
"But I never want to leave you."
---Clare: You have been mostly impervious to my wheedling ways. I've suffered dreadfully under your regime of French verbs and checkers.
Henry: I guess I should take consolation in the fact that my future self will at least have some weapons of subjugation.