minus the heroin

Mad World (Bad Girls)

ACT I - Good Mourning
OLIVIA, 17, wearing tight yellow pants and a black cardigan, sits on a wooden chair in the middle of a bedroom, with a computer in her lap. AJ, 17, wearing a t-shirt, boxers and socks, enters the room and sits on the bed.
O. Do you have a girlfriend?
AJ. No…why?
O. (pointing to computer screen) I saw your Facebook was alive again.
AJ. Alive and well.
O. And it says you're in a relationship. (beat) That's why I ask.
AJ. (thinking; laughs as he realizes) Me and my roommate were married. Then when I left Facebook I guess we broke up.
O. (laughing) Okay.
AJ. You?
O. Me? I'm alone.
AJ. Loner with a boner.
O. I'm just going to turn into a robot. Eliminate feelings. (smiles ear to ear)
AJ. (laughing) Are you that feeling-filled?
O. No, that's the thing. I feel pretty detached these days.
AJ. You seem that way. (beat) Are you lonely?
O. Yeah. Sort of. (beat) I guess I'm just waiting. I've realized how unstable people are. (beat) It's hard to count on them.
AJ. (realizing she's talking about him) Yeah, usually. Unless you start to control them. (beat) You don't seem like the type.
O. It's futile. Anyway (anxious to change the subject) How about you?
AJ. I don't know about me. I'm a fleeting fucker. Don't know if I try to be.
AJ. (to audience) I said that for her sake. You know--so she doesn't think I only ditch her. I ditch everyone.
Long silence.
AJ. (hopeful) Don't give up on people.
O. I'm not. (beat) I'm just--trying to learn to be independent but I don't want to lose touch.
AJ. I doubt that you would. (beat) Just be a loner! It's fun, and productive.
O. (smitten) Yes well I've kind of always been one anyway. (beat) I'm jealous of your travels. I think that's what I need.
AJ. I think so, too. And thank you. (beat) I keep running away, but I think I need to--be selfish about it. (beat) You should plan your summer elsewhere.
O. I don't have the moneys. (condescending) You're lucky that way.
AJ. Not really. I have loans up the butt. (beat) I don't know. Don't find excuses. If you gotta get out, then get out.
O. I know you're right.
AJ. (to audience) Obviously I'm right - but that doesn't make a difference. I'm not giving her advice, I'm giving her a fortune cookie.
AJ. Maybe I'm not. Just do what you feel. Don't take my advice.
O. (smiling) Why not? 'Cause you're crazy?
AJ. (flirting) Am I?
O. Not totally.
AJ. Maybe might be. But don't take too much advice. (beat) Want to come to new york?
O. (giggling) I'd love to.
AJ. I'm going to steal a bag of money and get you a ticket.
O. Okay.
AJ. Okay.
Long silence - they both know they won't be seeing each other for a while.
O. I wish we could hang out more though.
AJ. Yeah, me too. It pisses me off that you're cool. (beat) I would explain that, but no.
O. (laughing) Okay.
AJ. So was I a great date?
O. You were pretty cute.
AJ. (flattered) Thanks. Was it the getting the car stuck in mud that got you?
O. (teasing) Very endearing.
AJ. I'm a charmer.
Another silence - they reminisce on the night before, the hours spent in the car kissing.
O. I'm going to choose a random weekend and escape to New York. I could just be a nomad and stay with friends. That could be fun.
AJ. It would be. It's such a perfect place. (beat) Go soon.
AJ. (to audience) She's not visiting New York. People love saying things like that -- that they'll just escape and be a nomad for a weekend. It always sounds great, but they never follow through.
O. I have to save.
AJ. That's fair.
Long moment of realization.
O. Where are you living?
AJ. I don't know. My mom's going to try to find me a place when we get there.
O. Fun!
AJ. Maybe. (beat) Actually, yeah. Definitely. (beat) You looked really pretty the other night. Told you I was a charmer.
O. Thanks.
AJ. No problem.
O. I'm glad we didn't go to the party. I liked the smaller group.
AJ. Me too. Those are my best friends down here. You should become friends with all of them.
Another long pause. Olivia looks as she's about to say something, and so does AJ. They motion to each other to "go."
AJ. Go.
O. I got nothing.
AJ. Yeah…me either. (beat; hopeful) Any plans tonight?
O. Nope.
AJ. You like watching people pack?
O. (laughing) I don't know.
AJ. (earnest) Only one way to find out…
O. Are you inviting me over?
AJ. I am.
O. Oh. Well, I'm not sure. (beat) I might be hanging out with my ex. His sister's visiting and I really like her, and wanted to see her before she goes back to New York.
AJ. (to audience) What about me? I'm going to New York tomorrow, too.
AJ. Ouch.
O. (laughing) Well…I guess I'll let you know?
AJ. Okay.
They look down. They have so much to say, but nothing at all they want to admit - especially not right now.
AJ. Okay. I have to go.
O. Okay.
AJ. Maybe I'll see you soon. I'll probably talk to you soon.
O. Okay. (beat) See you.
Olivia rises and walks off the stage, leaving AJ alone. The spotlight lands on him, as he stays seated and addresses the audience.
AJ. (to audience) It's rare to find that honesty, especially with a girl--to speak the same exact language, but be on entirely different pages. It's usually the opposite. But it's funny, no matter how well you're communicating, it doesn't help you get any sort of closure if you both want what you both can't get--it only makes it more clear that it's hopeless.
AJ rises and walks off the stage. The lights come down.
ACT II - Good Eve
OLIVIA, now 21, wearing leggings and an oversized t-shirt, lays on a bed. She is hunched over and exhausted. She hasn't slept normally in weeks and looks restless.
AJ, 21, wearing a red bandana, black shirt and black pants, enters the stage and again stops at center-stage to address the audience.
AJ. (to audience) I knew we'd end up together, eventually. Despite all the horrible roadblocks that came between us -- my year and a half in New York, her multiple boyfriends, our general lack of direction. We knew there was something neither of us wanted to give up on. (beat) We were finally a couple, and obviously - I had what I wanted and did well to sabotage it. I was older, after all, and much more cynical.
AJ turns and enters the room, and sits on an ottoman beside the bed.
AJ. You watching?
O. No. That movie literally just possessed my computer. And then me and my Mac got in a fist fight. And it won.
AJ sighs.
O. I just read the cutest Valentine's card. (long beat) I hate that when we talk it's basically me talking to myself, but it's better than not talking at all.
AJ. Yeah. I feel that sometimes, too. Tell me about the card.
O. I got it from this crazy Russian kid. (beat) Wait--why do you feel that? I'm far more attentive than you. Asshole.
AJ. I didn't mean it in a bad way. You just don't like silences. (beat) It bothers you, no?
O. Um…I guess when I'm alone I like silences. Not when I talk to somebody. But I know it's different in person.
AJ. I guess so.
O. It's like that scene in Eternal Sunshine when Joel says always talking isn't necessarily communicating.
AJ. (to audience) Her favorite reference. She wanted to be Clementine so badly - the free-wheeling sociopath who coloured her hair every week for a change of pace.
Long pause.
O. (desperate). Just tell me you fucking love me. Please.
AJ. (playing games) Why are you so unsure? (beat) I hate that I ask questions when you just want to hear an admission. But still--more you say that more I think you don't mean it. Do you love me, or the fact that I'm doing all the stuff you want to be doing.
AJ. (to audience) Shit. I feel a fight coming.
AJ. Can I ask you something?
O. (ignoring this) I wish I was in New York with you right now. I think the thing is I understand everything that goes on in my head much better than you think, but emotions get the best of me more often than I'd like. (suddenly hearing him) Ask away.
AJ. Nevermind. It's stupid.
O. Ask.
AJ. No. You're crazy, though. It's good. Don't be normal on account of me.
O. (defensive) Why am I crazy? I'm not.
AJ. I don't mean it in a bad way. I really don't. (tip-toeing) I like it. But you're definitely not normal. (foot in his mouth) You're not--vanilla. I think that's your struggle. Maybe you want to be vanilla. But don't be.
O. (ignoring this) But I think I often splatter years of negative reinforcement and unbalanced chemicals onto any situation in front of me.
AJ. Stop saying shit like that. Like you can't control yourself.
O. (angry) Let me finish, asshole.
AJ. You're not an avatar.
O. I don't want to be. I want to be happy! (beat) I don't want to be normal. And I know I'm crazy and I like not being normal a lot and I think I enjoy things others don't. But I'm not happy with myself or with anything because of all that.
Long silence.
O. Sorry. This is stupid. (beat) Fuck it. You brought it up.
AJ. I did.
O. I'm not mad right now.
AJ. (exploding) Nobody is happy with themselves.
O. Yeah. (beat) Well. I'm going to try to be. (beat) I think before you left for Pairs you were way more affectionate and now you're an angst analytical asshole when I'm just trying to show you some love because you're also insecure, and you don't know that I mean it.
AJ. It's funny.
O. (ignoring this) But I wouldn't say it if I didn't feel it because I'm also an analytical asshole.
AJ. (now ignoring her) That when I became that way, for the first time - you liked me. More than a friend.
O. I know.
AJ. I'm not mad.
O. I know. (ashamed; beat) That's just how the cookie crumbles. It's fucked up. But I guess it's that we all need to appreciate shit more.
Long pause.
O. Damn. Everything is so complex.
AJ. No, it's beautiful.
O. You're beautiful.
AJ. (to audience) We were like one of Proust's diaries -- capable of sounding like we were on acid even when we were only drunk.
AJ. I love Basquiat.
O. (ignoring this) No offense.
AJ. For the way he walks.
O. Ditto.
AJ. You're not convincing me.
O. I'm trying.
AJ. Stop. I write better when you don't.
O. (half-serious) Should I cut off my ear and send it to you? (beat; half-serious) Okay, whatever - if you'll get a better grade and further in life from all of my disappointment and ever-growing insecurity, then fine. No problem.
AJ. You're an idiot.
O. That's fine. I know.
AJ. If I'm making your insecurity grow, stop talking to me. That's the last thing I ever wanted.
O. (desperate) NO! It's just that--sometimes you're so good. And other times you make me want to die. And that's what I do to make you write better. And now you're doing it to me. I just have to get a pen and some paper and fucking relax.
AJ. Yeah. Get a fucking hobby. Because--because even if I'm the dopest dude alive.
O. You're not.
AJ. Which maybe, I am, but I'm not worth as much time as you think I might be.
O. I know.
AJ sits, brooding and offended. Olivia tries to find the right words to make him feel better.
O. I feel like I--hold on to things like this to make make me feel something...And disappointment is what I'm used to. (beat) But I know you feel it.
AJ. Yeah, I do. But you're--Right now, I'll undoubtedly put all the things that I want ahead of you. And I'm sorry.
O. (laughing) I should the same--and I want you to do that. I would be terribly bored if you didn't. (beat) I'm just stupid and anxious and frustrated, and I know you think I sound dramatic. And--I'm sorry, that I put all of this on you. (beat) I'm literally talking to myself. But that's how it should be.
There is a long pause - AJ has nothing to say. He is feeling her apology. He pulls a notepad out of his pocket and scribbles something as she waits.
O. Say something.
AJ. I just wrote another poem about you.
O. (enticed) Give me!
AJ. (with no hesitation) It's called Sometimes You're Great.
AJ turns to the audience as Olivia stares on from the background.
AJ. (to audience)
most times, I am not great
I am just myself, doing the things I said
I one day would try to do.
I tell her that she’s Gina
Because I will always,
At least for right now
Do every single thing
That I said I’d try to do
And put every one of those things
Ahead of her
She tells me she’d be very bored of me
If I didn’t do those things
But she becomes dramatic, again
And puts all of her insecurities on me
She is talking to herself,
Because I’m talking to another woman
Again.
She is talking to herself,
And “thats how it should be”
AJ turns back to Olivia.
AJ. It's basically our conversation. You were there.
O. (nearly defeated) Honest question. (beat; finding her footing) Not looking for any right or wrong answer.
AJ. Sure.
O. Do you ever think anything I feel is valid? Have you desensitized, or are you just selfish? If you are, were you always and just infatuated by a boyish crush? (beat; crying) Why the fuck do you always tell me you want to come up there? (knows the answer) Would you be different?
AJ. (swallowing the insults) Maybe. Probably not--to the last question.
O. Got it.
AJ. Wow.
Long pause.
O. I know I deserve all of this. I'm just--a baby.
AJ. (annoyed) What do you deserve? What exactly are you getting? (more annoyed) And what did you expect?
O. To feel the way I feel.
AJ. (ignoring her) And why couldn't you tell me you loved me before I left?
O. (sobbing) Can you try to be more sensitive, please!
AJ. (cold) You're just as infatuated with this idea as I am.
O. (soft) I know I am. I don't deny it.
AJ. That's why you always say you want to come up here.
O. (to herself) I know. And I know it wouldn't change.
AJ. It's like--we're holding onto something that's not real. It's not something--you deserve, or I deserve. It's something we both want.
O. So why is it not real?
AJ. I can't say. (beat) But you know that it isn't.
AJ rises from the chair.
O. (after him) Things are real when you let them be. You're just so disillusioned from shit that is not my fault, and you don't want to waste anymore time. (beat) But dont' say it's not real because of that. Reality is mutual. (she's lost her train of thought) It's all fucking made up.
AJ. (fed up; not playing her game) I think that you're dramatic, because you make this more of a struggle than it has to be.
Long pause.
AJ. I have to go. I'm sorry.
AJ walks off the stage. Olivia stares at her computer, and throws it off her bed and onto the ground. As it crashes, she pulls the covers over her head.
The stage goes dark for a few moments, then AJ returns and the spotlight illuminates him. He addresses the audience.
AJ. (to audience) God -- we took ourselves so fucking seriously. After reading all of those sad books of poetry we started to emulate heartbreak. But we were horrible actors.
ACT III - And Good Night
Olivia, now 29, sits in a two-person couch, wearing an oversized t-shirt and high socks. AJ, now 29, stumbles in, wearing an ill-fitting suit and worn shoes.
AJ. (to audience) For twelve years, we broke up and got back together. She stood strong, and sometimes, I can’t even tell why. We loved each other - sure - but I'd lied, and caused her enough heartache to leave me behind a hundred times. (relieved) We were comfortable, and we'd helped each other through everything - her brother's death, my parent's split. We always listened.
O. How'd the dinner go?
AJ. Fucking horrible.
O. Really?
AJ. Yeah…really, really horrible. (beat) We didn't say one word after ordering our food.
O. Was he--alright?
AJ. I can't tell-- He just kept shaking his head, and I couldn't look up past the Ketchup bottle.
O. What was wrong with him?
AJ. He's sad. He looks like he's dead. Like shockingly dead.
O. Shockingly dead?
AJ. You know what I mean. I don't know--he's looked that way for months though.
O. I know. Remember Matt's party? He just kept looking at his phone.
AJ. He did that today, too. (shaking his head) I don't know why I keep meeting up with him.
O. Well-- he's your father.
AJ. Yes, I suppose he is.
O. He is your father.
AJ. More or less – more like a skeleton of my father, now. I can't even recognize him.
Olivia peers off into the distance, as AJ stands to get a beer from the refrigerator. He comes back and sits down on the couch beside her.
AJ. He shaved his mustache. It's so weird.
O. (giggling) What does that look like? I can't even imagine him without a mustache.
AJ. Fucking weird. He did that when I when I was kid -- we were supposed to go on this cruise for my Bar Mitzvah, and we woke up at 7, I walked over to his room, and he was just standing there without a mustache, smiling ear to ear. My mom hated it.
Olivia laughs and slides over toward AJ, rubbing his shoulders.
AJ. Jay keeps saying that he's on some "path of self-destruction." I don't even know what that means.
O. I think he's just pissed off.
AJ. And he's using psychological terms to express it.
O. Well, he did send that long letter to him.
AJ. Oh yeah. (smiling) "I Hope You are Happy."
O. Jesus.
AJ. You know I'm the only one he talks to now?
O. I talk to him--
AJ. Well, besides you. Jay stopped answering up his calls, so did Mike. The dude's in a halfway house with a broken foot. (beat) For some reason every time I see him I think of Lil' Wayne --
O. Lil' Wayne?
AJ. Yeah-- like you know how he writes all those blog posts from prison?
O. Yeah I think I read the first one.
AJ. They're pretty good. But anyway, he said that he wakes up, has coffee, and talks to his kids for hours every morning. My dad only talks to me, and I only have like half an hour a day to talk to him.
O. That's not you're fault.
AJ rises and sits on the chair again.
AJ. No. But--the thing is--I don't even want to talk to him when I do.
O. How could you not want to talk to him?
AJ. He's just--he's such a bummer.
O. AJ--
AJ. I know that sounds retarded, but it's like--how long do I have to keep a relationship with him purely out of guilt that no one else is talking to him?
O. It shouldn't be like that. You should talk to him because you want to.
AJ. It shouldn't be like that, but -- shit, it is.
There is a long pause as AJ looks to the ground with his forearms at his knees. He is contemplating, and Olivia looks at him to try to figure out what to say and how to say it.
O. Does he ever talk to your mom?
AJ. (exhaling and leaning back) He tried -- but she's avoiding him heavy. She told him to leave her alone forever.
O. Christ.
AJ. I know. I’m not even sure why he would want to talk to her, though.
O. He wants to fix it.
AJ. But I don’t even know what he sees in her. She's so out of her mind and keeps proving that over and over. Why would he even want to get back with her?
O. He knows he messed up.
AJ. So he wants to put himself in the position to do it again?
O. It's not that - he just knows that she's his wife. She's the mother of his kids. They were married for 44 years.
AJ. Right. That turned out pretty great.
O. Don't be an asshole. They were together until that whole thing happened with Natasha. They know each other.
AJ. They know each other? Really? Do you know what you're talking about? Because they knew each other, and hated each other.
O. They had to have had some kind of love for one another--some kind of connection beyond what you saw. (smiling, flirtatious) Like us!
AJ leans back, almost disgusted.
AJ. You think it was romantic because that's how you saw them when we were in college and visited and it was all peaches and smiles. But I think you really overestimate the civility of that whole situation.
O. I'm just saying--there had to be something more. 44 years? That's a long time to stick around if it's purely misery.
AJ. It wasn't 44 years, first of all. They broke up like ten times before. The Natasha thing was just the last straw broke the camel.
O. Really? I didn't know they split up before.
AJ. A bunch of times - before I was born, when I was four, when I was twelve…
O. Wow.
AJ. I mean--the way my mom tells it, she's been planning on leaving him for good since Vietnam.
O. She must've been pretty fed up. So many years of racing thoughts.
AJ. And she finally did it.
There is an ominous, strange silence.
AJ. (muttering) You can only swallow somebody else's problems for so long. Eventually, they just don't taste so good anymore.
O. So she's living for herself now. That must feel good.
AJ. Seems that way.
O. (bothered) Why'd she leave him all those times?
AJ rises and starts pacing.
AJ. Because--(remembering) because he'd made all that money in '90, then he started having an affair while she was at home, and she didn't want all their money going to some whore.
O. (rolling her eyes) Understandable.
AJ. But then she realized she didn't have anything that was her own--so she put up with it.
O. I wouldn't do that.
AJ. (challenging her) You sure?
O. Of course! I wouldn't stay with you if you cheated.
AJ. You say that now. (teasing) Then all the sudden I'm a billionaire, and you won't be so sure.
O. (laughing at the idea) Even if you were a billionaire, buddy.
Another strange silence.
AJ. (thoughtful) It's just sad, y'know? She said people get married for love or money, and she got married for love, then stuck around for money.
O. (under breath) Without money, love isn't so easy.
AJ. I guess, but--Ok, what about that Russian guy?
O. That guy with four kids by four wives?
AJ. Yeah--when he knew it was over, he just left. Put money in every girl's pocket, and went on his way.
O. How respectable.
AJ. Whatever--he pays child support, and it's fine.
O. (confrontational) You really think it's all fine? You don't think those girls wanted a dad?
AJ. I'm sure they do--
O. Yeah, me too. (really angry) That guy was a fucking coward.
AJ. (to audience) Her dad did the same thing. Every few years - new town, new family.
AJ. (exploding) He's not a coward! He knew what he felt and didn't try to fool anybody. It's a shame that the girls had to deal with it, but--
O. It's more than a shame. He made a promise, remember?
AJ. Okay, so he shouldn't have gotten married all those times.
O. No, I guess not. It's just awful when people get married to express their love, then forget all about it.
Long pause, as Olivia affectionately slides toward AJ.
O. Speaking of...when are you going to express your love to me? (as she sees he's ignoring her) You know I'm the only one of my friends still "dating" someone?
AJ. (suddenly disgusted) No, I didn't know that. (feigning concern) How is that affecting you? Are you alright?
O. Shut up. Don't patronize me.
AJ. No, I'm not patronizing. I'm just--are you really bringing us up right now?
O. I mean--
AJ backs away, preparing for the onslaught.
O. It's just that--you've been so wrapped up with your parents. (tip-toeing) We haven't talked about us in a long time.
AJ. Really? How long?
AJ. (to audience) We have this conversation just about every three weeks. As comfortable as we've grown together, she still has this little girl's fear that I've always got one foot out the door. Just like her dad.
O. Like--it doesn't matter. I'm just saying--
AJ. I know what you're saying--but you have to understand where I'm coming from. All this stuff with my parents has made me think things through.
O. (threatened) Oh yeah? Like what?
AJ. (under breath) Just marriage...stuff. Y'know? The whole arrangement.
O. What about it?
AJ. (opening up) I just--I see so much in them that I don't want for myself. All that--hiding how they really felt. All those dinners and movie dates.
O. They were unhappy. What does that have to do with us?
AJ. Everything. Like--when I was a kid I would spend all my free time at home, just trying to mediate. I felt like I was helping, but I was just delaying. (beat) And now, with you, I'm always running home to do the same thing.
AJ suddenly realizes what he just said and cringes. He wishes he could take it back.
O. So you don't want to come home to me?
AJ. I do--
O. Well you just said that you didn't.
AJ. I know.
AJ. (to audience) I know what I said, and I meant it.
AJ. I just--I helped two miserable people stay miserable. I don't want the same for us. (beat) I don't know what else to say.
Pause.
O. Well, I do. If you're unhappy, that's fine. Just fucking tell me, okay?. So that I stop wasting my time. So that I can stop building a life with a boyfriend until I'm forty.
Long, deafening silence.
O. Why are you so scared?
AJ. I'm not scared--I just don't want to ruin us. (beat) I know you think that's dumb, or childish, but I really don't care. This is my life.
AJ. (to audience) With age, it's so much easier to make these grand statements about your life, and how it's "yours to live." The longer you're with someone, it gives you this creative license to make every conversation a tragedy.
O. This is my life, too, okay? This is my life as much as yours.
AJ. (to audience) See?
AJ. I know.
O. And I can decide my future as much as you can. And (mustering up the courage) I can decide to leave.
AJ. Leave? You're going to leave?
O. (obviously bluffing) Maybe.
AJ. (condescending) Really? And do what?
O. Fucking live, asshole. What do you mean, do what? I work. I have friends. I have family.
AJ. I guess I must've forgotten -- what with all the years of you avoiding your entire family, and all of your friends. And spending every waking minute here, with me.
O. Fuck you. I don't need you.
AJ. Fine. Go, then.
Olivia rises, shaking her head. She carries herself as if she’s about to walk out on him.
AJ. (calling after her) Bye.
AJ. (to audience) How did it come to this? How did I become so bitter? I used to love her. I used to need her. I used to be a nice guy who would never say these things.
Olivia turns.
O. Fuck you.
AJ. Fuck off. Get out of here.
O. I’m going. I just want to know one thing, first – once I leave you, you really think it’ll be easier?
AJ. Yes, I do.
O. (cutting him off) Yeah? You think you won’t become one of those weird thirty-year-olds prowling the bars still searching for the right one?
AJ. I might be. And if I am, so what? I’d rather look weird than settle. And either way – fuck that, I’m not going to be “on the prowl.”
O. No, then what are you going to do?
AJ. Fucking be alone! What a thought. I know you’re convinced that it’s a human’s sole purpose to marry and procreate—
O. It doesn’t have to be a sole purpose. Don’t be so dramatic about something so trivial.
AJ. Trivial? Trivial? What’s trivial about it? The only reason we’re arguing is our little “trivial” relationship. The reason my father wants to die and my mother lies in bed lonely every night is because of their “trivial” relationship.
O. Okay, not trivial. I meant universal. You’re putting so much emphasis on something so basic.
AJ turns from her.
O. Every single person has a significant other. And if they don’t they want one.
AJ. (turning back) Right, a significant other. Not a significant only.
Long pause.
O. You can’t be alone.
AJ. (sighs) I don’t want to be alone.
O. Then what do you want?
AJ. I don’t want anything. I don’t want you.
Olivia fades into the darkness again, and AJ turns to the audience.
AJ. (to audience) I read this book, and the author kept emphasizing this point that there aren’t as many fish in the sea as we think – that based on the circumstances of our relationships and the scope of people we can actually meet, there’s maybe a handful and a half of fish in each person’s sea. (beat) We gave almost half of our lives to each other. But hell, I don't want to miss out on the rest of the fish in my sea. (beat) I know I’ll find some new girl who loves all the same things that I do -- but she'll never be able to communicate with me the same way she did. And I'll always be spiteful because she's not her. And, I'll keep on looking. What else can I do, at this point? (long beat) But, I know as soon as I see her with another guy, I'll die - and all these solutions will fly out the window. And maybe I'll think about her and how I gave up on a girl that literally knew every thing about me. If you ask me in another ten years if I still love her, I might.

March 26, 2011