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:: Sunday, February 04, 2007 ::

Marry me

Burke and Cristina sit at their dining table. She finally speaks directly to him, telling him, "I was right. I swear, I really believe what I did was right. I don't want you to forgive me, frankly. I'd find it patronizing if you did, because while I know I was right, you think I'm wrong. Which doesn't matter, because I'm in this. I'm in this for the long haul. And I'm in this to finish the race. So if that means I don't win this one, then fine. I don't win. You win. I'm talking. See, I'm talking first. You win." Burke: "Marry me."

George walks into Callie's hotel room. Still? In the hotel room? Isn't there some other hospital basement she could have moved into by now? George tells her, "I don't want to waste any time," and you can see her mentally gird her loins. So to speak. She tells him that she's had enough of the constant sex. George: "Since my dad died, I feel like someone ripped out my stomach, filled the hole with asphalt. And I laugh every time I remember I'm never gonna talk to him again, because it just sounds like the stupidest thing I ever heard. Can't believe it's real. But, every time I look at you, I feel better. It shocks me, and it knocks my wind out, but it's true. I don't have to have sex with you. I'd be happy just to look at you from across the room. Even that, anything, any piece of you, but hopefully all of you, that'd be the best thing. 'Cause I love you." And then he drops to one knee and asks her, "Marry me? Will you marry me?"

I'm not sure why, but I found this incredibly hilarious. I mean, it's nice. It's touching. But somewhere inside me, I'm laughing because I find it incredibly surreal and unbelievable.

Sorta like - "Yeah, right. As if that would ever happen in real life." I feel I might be gearing up for my romance-is-dead rant for this year's Valentines'. =P

(Yes, maybe there's some precedent for it.)

:: And that's all she wrote 11:14 PM [+] ::
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