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Back at Hannah's, our heroine is eating Cool Whip out of the container when Marnie stops by. Now Marnie is ostensibly there to check up on Hannah, but, yeah, right. Nice timing that as soon as Marnie's life gets good again, she deigns to visit Hannah. Marnie just wants to rub the visions of her little brown babies in Hannah's face. But Hannah hides and Marnie doesn't look very hard for her and leaves, grabbing a candelabra on her way out. Class-act, that Marnie.

Still skidding along her downward spiral, Hannah decides to cut her own hair. This is a terrible idea that she makes even worse by getting Laird, the downstairs junkie, to fix the mess she made. Laird gives her Lloyd Christmas bangs that are awful and Hannah doesn't even care, saying that she's been a mess and hasn't been eating and is probably getting really skinny. Laird tells her that she still "looks like her volumptuous self to me" and I smile. I'm pretty sure he said "volumptuous" not "voluptuous" but I don't even want to know if I'm wrong. Because "volumptuous" is a great word.

Hannah, though, ruins the nice moment and insinuates that Laird might try to have sex with her against her will. He looks pained and disgusted and tells her, "You are the most self-involved presumptuous person I have ever met. I had feelings for you, sure, until I realized how rotten your insides are." Ouch.

Hannah asks, "Are you serious?"

Laird answers in the affirmative, "I think it's a pretty dark scene inside your head."

And, of course, he's not wrong. Hannah knows this and tells him, "I don't have anything to say to that, Laird, except I'm sorry and I didn't think about you as a person and I understand now that was wrong." Which is the worst and best apology of all time. But Laird accepts it anyway and leaves.

Oh, and now this is sad. We are in a sad place with Ray and Shosh, because they are breaking up. Ray must have told Shosh about the new position at Grumpy and its fancy new title and she just didn't care.

She tells him, "I love you so much, like to the ends of the world and back. But sometimes I love you the way that, like, I feel sorry for a monkey, like, they need so much help and they're in such an ugly cage. You know what I mean?"

Ray understandably does not take this well. He says, "This is not correct. You don't know what you're doing." But she does know. He asks if there's anyone else. Perhaps a Scandinavian? (Ed. note: Scandinavians ruin everything.)

Shoshanna assures him, "There's nobody else, especially not an adult male blond. You know me better than that."

But then she gets into the real problem with Ray. He's too dark for her. She tells him, "You hate everything. You hate the sound of children playing. You hate all your living relatives. You hate people who wear sunglasses, even during the day. You hate going to dinner, which you know I love. You hate colors. You hate pillows. You hate ribbons. I can't be the only thing you like. Maybe I can deal with your black soul when I'm older, but I can't deal with it now."

Ray makes a last ditch effort, telling her that "maybe she needs to change" before grabbing his life-size Andy Kaufman cardboard cutout and leaving. RIP, Ray and Shoshanna. We'll always have the L station.

Hannah, in full-on desperation mode, tries to call Jessa. She must know Jessa won't pick up, but that's ok because she leaves the best voicemail ever. After hearing the outgoing message—"You've reached Jessa. I would never listen to a voicemail but if you insist on trying"—and getting the beep, Hannah just goes off.

"Oh, hello, you fucker. Are you kidding me? Where did you go and who am I supposed to talk to if you won't answer your fucking phone, ok? That anorexic Marnie? Fucking Shoshanna or my stalker ex-boyfriend? It's not like any of them want to talk to me and I don't blame them because I cut off all my fucking hair. And now you're off somewhere just living it up, wearing a crop top, you probably got your vagina pierced and you're not answering your phone and you're forgetting about everyone who's fucking it up here. So I hope you're having a great time. Love you."

Really, that voicemail was a tour-de-force. Lena Dunham really brought her acting A-game this season. Well, in every episode but the cocaine one.

Anyway, so then we see Adam who is tearing all the stuff down in his apartment. His phone rings. It's Hannah. He can't swipe it open with the work-gloves he's wearing, so he yells at Siri.

Hannah's face pops up because she called him with Facetime. Adam asks, "Is this fucking face space or whatever?"

He can tell immediately that something is wrong with her, and realizes that it's the "OCDC shit" that she had in high school. And it is undeniably moving that Adam and Hannah had at one point been close enough that he can tell within a few seconds that something is wrong with her and know exactly what it is. And unlike Hannah's father or Jessa or even Marnie, who could have looked for Hannah a little harder if she'd wanted to, Adam sees and hears Hannah's pain and tells her he's coming to her. He runs, shirtless, out of his apartment as if it was a scene in a Nora Ephron movie, music swelling and everything. Adam runs to Hannah.

And as Adam runs, we see Shoshanna laughing and kissing a tall blond man in a bar strung with colored lights. We see Marnie and Charlie, happy together, walking arm in arm. We see Adam running again, up the stairs and to Hannah's door. She won't let him in, so he breaks it down. And so even though we saw earlier that the first line in Hannah's book is “A friendship between college girls is grander and more dramatic than any romance…" we actually see that none of Hannah's friends were grand and dramatic in attempting to help her. Only Adam was grand and dramatic. And those are two qualities Hannah craves.

"You're here," she says.

"Well, I was always here," he answers.

And he picks her up and cradles her like a baby. And even though this raises more questions than it answers—I mean, what will happen with Hannah's book? Is Adam really so good for her at such a fragile time in her life—there is something so perfect about that last image that I can't help but feel reassured. Hannah was drowning and Adam, for all of his many imperfections, was the only one who could rescue her. We'll just have to wait and see what happens next season, see who sinks and see who swims.

Follow Kristin Iversen on twitter @kmiversen