Archive for April, 2012

Space. Let me have space.

I am learning how to wait.

April 14th.

He sends a picture of a dissected sewing machine with the caption: Lol. Which part is the bobbin?
She: [Name], I’m having a really hard time proceeding as jovial and nondescript, mainly bc I don’t know when you’ll reach out and when you won’t. I need some more space. I’m sorry.

He: I’m sorry for intruding.
She: It’s okay. I’ve been realizing I spoke too soon about wanting still to be friends. I can’t do that right now because my trust in your loyalty and devotion has been damaged which leaves too much room for jealousy and disdain and for that I’m sorry

[Four days go by. No contact.]

April 17th. 1:57 AM.
He: trying to respect your request for space, but I have to ask… Am I the only one that feels really shitty?

He: Nvm. Dont answer that. I’m stupid. Sorry- I’ll leave you alone

9:22 AM.
She: The answer is ‘no (of course not).’

5:07 PM.
She: “Where I Stood” -Missy Higgins. Look up the lyrics. Exactly how I feel, word for word.
He: That’s exactly what I was afraid of. And answered all the questions I wanted to ask. So thank you, and i hope we can reconnect at least a little bit before you graduate.
She: Me too. Bc that’ll mean things have improved.
He: I just don’t understand how things can improve like this

He: I feel like i’m the only one that values this at all. And maybe that’s true, but if it isn’t I’m actually interested in finding something.
She: Values what? I don’t know what you meant by that last statement.
He: I just feel like we’re throwing all of it away. all or nothing is really stupid
She: It sounds like you want to talk.
He: Desperately. I’m so sad. But it’s obvs not your problem and i can deal with it, I’m struggling a lot to adjust to no communication indefinitely.
She: I am glad you said something. Of course we can talk. But it has to be sober. I work until 11:15 tonight so if you’d rather tomorrow that’s fine. Let me know.

I believe he’s coming over in a few minutes, to speak with me in between my work responsibilities.

I don’t know what to ask for. Of course I want him in my life, but if he can’t give me what I need, I can’t be expected to just be there for him when he needs me. He’s so sad, he says, but I can’t believe that he could ever think that I’m anything other than devastated. My boyfriend decided that networking and drug dealing were more important than putting in the time and effort to be in love with me. It’s not a matter of my doubting my worth; it’s a matter of my being so angry at myself for letting it go on for so long and being with someone who clearly checked out months ago. I can’t be with someone who isn’t in it as much as I am.

But I also desperately care about him and his well being and wish so much that there were someone in my life that I could love so that all of this emotion that keeps brimming up over the edges of my heart can overflow into someone else’s soul.

Until then, I do not know how to negotiate this entanglement I find myself in.


I Look Forward To Leaving

[April 8th. 9 PM. Texts.]

She: Can I get those videos from you? I need them for this project.
He: Were you thinking tonight?
She: Ideally, but it can wait. Do you have a 1/4 I can buy? Slash, if so, how much?
He: Yeah- 90, um. Let me finish this meeting and I’ll text you.
She: Okay.
He: Can you bring your hard drive when you come over? This is too big for everything else.
She: Sure. I’ll have [friend] and [friend] bring it when they come to get stuff.
He: Of course…
She: ?
He: Nothing- just didnt expect you to go into hiding
She: Wtf. Forgive me if I’m exhausted and don’t feel like seeing you and being made to feel shitty. You’d really rather me come and feign cheer? // I’m not interested in seeing you at your happiest, surrounded by wares and customers. // But I’ll come. Whatever. Shouldn’t be any skin off my nose apparently, so I guess it won’t be
He: You don’t have to. I get it.
She: No, you don’t and because of it you’re being an ass.






I did not make this, but it is mine, too.
PostSecret, April 8th. Easter Sunday.

Will I ever get enough

or will you one day call my bluff

that I want more than all that you are?

Give me who you will be, not just who you’ve been thus far …

[April 7th. 3:30 PM. They sit on a park bench, each hidden by sunglasses, not making eye contact.]
She: If you knew you didn’t want to be with me after I graduate, then why didn’t you just end it??
He: Because I knew this is what it would look like.
She: Oh yeah?
He: Yeah. And this is what it looked like when we were dating, too.
She: You think?
He: Being made to feel shitty about the choices that I make and the things that I do? Yeah, you’ve always berated me. That’s nothing new.
She: What am I supposed to do?
She: What should I have done? Instead. Not what shouldn’t I do.
He: I don’t know. Let me be.
She: You implied that you were willing to change. You said, “I’ll do what it takes. Whatever it takes.” What was I supposed to take from that?
He: I don’t know.
She: So you have been leading me on because you made me believe that all this trying was worth it! That you were willing to change! That this was worth fighting for! That you cared about me enough to try, but time and time again I have been disappointed because you’re not actually trying, you just say you are or say you want to. I don’t want that. I want someone who is there for me.
He: I told you, I’m not interested in living my life waiting for you.
She: Yeah, well that’s what do now for you
He: Then why are you still here??
She: Because I keep thinking — in my delusional mind, apparently — that you will be true to your word. That you really do want this, but you need help. That you’re more reliable than you actually are. That you are worth it. But I guess you’re not.
He: I guess not.
She: I just don’t know why you haven’t owned up to it. If you didn’t actually want to change, why didn’t you say so?? I have always been clear about what I wanted from you.
He: You don’t know what you want.
She: What?!
He: You don’t know where you’re going. If you knew where you were going, then maybe it would be different. Maybe I’d be able to imagine it if there were more facts in the picture.
She: THAT’S WHY WE WEREN’T MAKING ANY DECISIONS. Until I get a job. I am waiting. Okay, so I don’t know exactly what I want to do because I have so many options! The world is wide and that’s exciting and it’s also fucking scary so don’t you fucking tell me that I don’t know what I want. I’ll tell you. I want someone who is there for me when I need them who lets me be there for them when they need me. I want someone who believes in me as much as I believe in them that will let me love them and show it to them as much as they love me. 
He: And I need to know if you are willing to love me as I am right now, because if not, then you should just leave.

[long beat.]

She: I guess I’m leaving then. 

[she sits, still. Beat. He gets up and puts on his jacket.]

He: I have to go, too. 
She: Okay. Thank you for talking with me.
He: Yeah. Thanks, too.
[She nods. He turns, and leaves. She sits, and one single tear streams down her face, from behind her large purple sunglasses.]


This is a story, told in a myriad of orderless vignettes, of two young people totally in love and totally wrong for each other. I am one, and I am trying to understand why I tried so hard when it all seems like it was so doomed. Everyone else knew it; why didn’t I?

Not everything recorded here is real memory. Some of it is my imaginings, but as a playwright and vivid dreamer with Adjustment Disorder and Anxiety with Depressive Mood, the fallacious plagues me all too well. The real story was affected by it, so it must be a part of the retelling.

Conversations Between A Young Woman and Her Drug Dealer: A Romantic Tragedy


[April 7th. 12:45 AM.

Text message: So not only did you not sleep but you’ve also been high since 8 AM?? WTF is wrong with you?? I have defended you to within an inch of your being to Diane that you don’t have a problem but clearly I’ve been living with a rock over my head and nothing I can do will help you. Good luck. If you need help, you will need to ask for it. I am removing myself otherwise. Goodnight.

Response: Good. Bye]

Part I: The End, cont.

[April 7. Midnight. A young woman stands, livid in a door way. A young man sits, looking wearily up at her.]
She: Yes, I think of you as laissez-faire.
He: I just made $200 in the last 2 hours.
She: Yeah, by sitting on your ass.
He: Money is money. Whew. I’m drunk. Probably because I only had half a pack of Skittles today.
She: Why?!
He: Didn’t have time.
She: At all?
He: Nope. I’ve been really busy.
She: So when did you pick up those drugs today?
He: Earlier.
She: So, could you have eaten something during that time?
He: I’d rather not spend cash.
She: Ask your stepdad for grocery money.
He: Yes.
She: Whatever.
[He pours himself another drink.]
She: Why the hell were you up until 3 AM?
He: Look, it’s none of your business.
She: Yeah, but you can’t go and pretend to be all buddy buddy with one of our friends in solidarity that you both have only gotten four hours of sleep but I’ll bet good money that he was doing work and you, who had and still has a ||shitton of work, watched a horror movie …
He: ||Yeah, I’ll bet he was.
He: I just feel like I’m leading you on.
She: Meaning what?
He: I’m just stuck between wanting to move on and being stuck here.
[Beat. She inhales as if to say something. Stops. Beat.]
She: Okay. Goodnight. [She turns to go.]
He: Fuck you. What the hell.
She: What?!
He: How am I supposed to react to this? I feel like I’ve been expected to want to do something.
She: Yeah, I guess so.
He: Well.
She: I guess I had thought I made it clear.
He: Made what clear.
She: The fact that I was interested in this being a thing.
He: You did.
She: And I thought that by us having sex yesterday, you were on board for the rules I sent you over break. The ones about not hooking up with other people if we were still going to have sex? Like, not date, as in you didn’t have to be any semblance of a good or even present boyfriend, but that we’d have a monogamous booty call situation. And so, silly me, thought that you were on board.
He: I am on board.
She: No, because you aren’t sure if you would rather have sex with me or with your text hookup chick.
He: Don’t you —
She: No, fine, whatever. I’m clearly wrong and I’ll realize it tomorrow and shit all over myself for having been so inconsiderate and rude so whatever. Take these [she removes a strip of three condoms from her back pocket and throws them at him] and use them with your whor–  [she turns and leaves before she actually says this word. She storms out the door. The camera follows her as she stomps down the steps and into the brisk night, her angry breath billowing out in front of her.]