"Why'd you come all the way to Florida?" she asks suddenly. Dawson immediately looks uncomfortable, like she dropped a glass of iced tea down his pants. He doesn't think she wants to hear it, he explains. Joey shakes her head at him. "As long as I live, Dawson, I'll never not want to hear something you want to say," she says. Man, I guess Professor Creepy didn't cover correct grammar in his class. "I went down to Florida to tell you that I love you," he blurts out. Joey just stares at him. "See? It's not what you wanted to hear," he says. Joey asks why he didn't say anything at the time. Dawson shrugs that it was "obvious" that she'd moved on, and he didn't think it would be fair of him to ask her to "drop everything" just because he'd "finally seen the light." Joey doesn't point out that she'd still have to choose to kick him to the curb either way, but simply asks when things "changed" for him. Dawson explains that it all came into focus for him when he opened the book of sketches Joey made for Lily's first birthday. "I just realized that I hate it when you're not around," he sighs. I don't know if that equals love. I mean, I hate it when there aren't any Doritos in the house, but I'm not in love with them. Joey heaves an enormous sigh and asks how he knows that she's not just "a security blanket for [him], something [he comes] back to when the world gets scary." Dawson flares his nostrils and stares out at the water. Push him in! Push him in! Push him -- sorry, got a little distracted there. It's nice to feel the hate again. I adore the hate. I want to roll around in the hate. "It's not the world I'm scared of, Jo," Dawson says seriously. They stare at each other, and Dawson moves in to kiss her. Joey moves her head at the last minute. Sweet denial! "I'm sorry, Dawson, I can't do this," Joey says, and races away. That was simply adorable, don't you think? Dawson tries to make a sad and dismayed face, but instead lands on "Joey Potter, I want to kill you in your sleep."

Casa Potter. Dawson climbs crankily out of a cab to the tune of sad, sad music. Audrey and Joey struggle out of the house, weighed down by bag upon bag. Audrey tells Joey that while she is "trying on shoes at Fred Segal," Joey will miss her terribly. And she'll feel horrible about not spilling any dirt about what happened between her and Dawson. Outside the house, Dawson looks at an envelope sadly and drops it into the mailbox. Audrey stumbles onto the porch, saying that, without her, Joey has no one to unburden herself to, and not unburdening oneself is bad for the complexion. "Your complexion and your soul, if you even have one," Audrey says. Joey drops Audrey's bags and tells her, very kindly, to cram it. "I don't want to talk about it," she says. Audrey heads for the cab, commenting that Joey is so "Cher from Moonstruck right now." Except that Joey didn't smack Dawson and tell him to snap out of it, more's the pity. Everyone starts loading the cab, and Dawson and Joey act all awkward and weird around each other, and don't you think they'd be tired of all the drama by this point? Life's too short, dude. Call it a day and move the hell on, people! Anyway, Audrey and Joey embrace; Audrey says something about this being the best year of her life, and Joey smiles at her warmly, and Audrey gets in the car, leaving Dawson to stare at Joey like a stalker. "Tell her something in my heart," the guy on the soundtrack croons. "Need her more than even clowns." What the hell kind of f'ed up love song is this? Clowns are scary as hell. Any man who tells me that he needs me more than even clowns is going to get a one-way ticket to Get Out Of My Bedville. "Have a nice summer," Dawson snips. "You, too," Joey offers weakly. Dawson flares and glares and gets in the car. Joey looks very sad and wanders into the house.