JOEL
I can't think of anything I don't like
about you right now.

          CLEMENTINE
But you will.  You will think of things.
And I'll get bored with you and feel
trapped because that's what happens with 
me.

          JOEL
Okay.

          CLEMENTINE
Okay.

                                          THE END

I really like this ending of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  I think it could be an expression or example of Nietzsche’s attitude of amor fati.

My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it, …but love it. (Kaufmann, Ecce Homo p. 714)

This is something I find admirable about Nietzsche, considering his utter loneliness, perpetual ill health, and the failure of his books.  At least in his writing, he seems to be able to “say ‘yes’ to life” instead of falling into self-pity.

On a sort of related note, here’s the film’s ending from a first draft of the script:

INT. SECOND OLD WOMAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

The old Clementine is unconscious on her bed, hooked up to
modern versions of the erasing machines.  Two young
technicians monitor the equipment.  The woman's bedside phone
rings.  Her machine picks up.  After a moment:

               OLD MAN'S VOICE

          Hi, it's Joel.  What's going on, Clem?
          Why won't you call me back?  Please call
          me.  We need to speak.

The machine clicks off.  One of the technicians reaches over
and presses the "erase" button on the machine.

                                                      BLACK.

                    END

Eternal Recurrence of the Spotless Mind!