Jen, whose hair has suddenly started to look a lot better than I had recalled, has once again lined Dawson up in preparation to punt the little skeever for the field goal: "Dawson, you were videotaping a really private moment!" Dawson kneels down in front of her and begs for a chance to explain, stuttering urgently: "I wanted the moment to be perfect between us -- I wanted to create something special, something worthy of how special I think you are." Jen doesn't buy it: "Dawson, you just try too hard. You're overzealous." Dawson whines, "That's my downfall." Then why won't you stay down, Forehead Man? Jen asks, "I mean, why can't you just let the moment exist? Why do you always feel the need to make it happen?" Dawson, resting his chin on his dork-o-rama teardrop necklace, says he doesn't know, but he assures her that his intentions "are nothing short of honorable." Lord, give me strength. "I never met anyone like you before, Jen -- you scare me," he continues, and Jen says, "I scare you?" and Dawson, not even hearing her, blabbers on: "And I love the way you scare me, but it makes me nervous, and then I do or say something stupid [Word.], and then I expend all this energy coming up with ideas to be smart so that you won't think I'm stupid, but then those ideas ultimately backfire, making me look even more stupid." Blah blah blah "vicious cycle" blah blah blah "end of my rope" blah blah blah "all I want to do is kiss you, and I'm afraid if I don't kiss you soon I'm going to explode" fishcakes. Jen, instead of kissing him, says, "Oh, Dawson, this really sucks." Dawson, flabbergasted: "Why?" Jen says that now she feels scared, because he's built the kiss up so much in his mind that now it might disappoint him. Dawson, with admirable certainty: "Never happen."