However, by the end of the novel, this is significantly changed. Through Molina, Valentin learns to enjoy life and not agonize over the ruthless reality of the future. He says, "In a man's life, which may be short and may be long, everything is temporary. Nothing is forever It's a question of learning to accept things as they come, and to appreciate the good that happens to you, even if it doesn't last" (259). Valentin also begins to tentatively skirt the periphery of Molina's fabricated reality. He willingly shuts out the outside world to temporarily forget "about anything that's ugly" (233), and he even begins to craft a small fantasy world himself: "It's as if we were on some desert island- (202). .
In his final scene of the novel, Valentin reveals his true transformation. No longer a dialogue between himself and Molina, Valentin's final words are a morphine-induced rambling in which he finally fully enters Molina's movie world. His prose are more poetic than usual, but verge on contrived and superficial; his descriptions are very reminiscent of Molina's film narrations. Here, he weaves a movie-like fantasy where he disregards his previous concentration on the future and reality; instead he focuses only on "this instant this precise instant" (278).
Another change illuminated by Valentin's final drug-induced dream is in his attitude towards women and intimacy. Valentin starts out believing that true intimacy is impossible because it would burden him and interfere with his political cause. He says, "We commit ourselves as comrades, to avoiding intense relationships of that kind because they can only be a hindrance when it comes time to act" (135-136). He believes that truly loving someone, especially a woman, is futile and doomed to fail. When he speaks about Marta, a previous girlfriend whom he did love, Valentin says that, "it seems like we were destined to be separated" (139).
