Monday, February 15, 2010

Monologue for Theater Class

I can hear his footsteps squelching softly in the mud. It must be Friday. Greg comes by every Friday, before work. I guess these visits help him.

I can see him now, enveloped in the fog. He’s bringing flowers, again. I wish he knew that they really aren’t necessary; all that matters is that he still comes by. He’s already done more than enough. Does he think I still blame him?

He’s wearing a thick jacket. It must be getting colder, but that doesn’t stop him. He came all last winter, even when it snowed. I worry though… if the winter is harsh, will he stop coming?

What will happen if he forgets? What will happen if he does finally find someone else, if he can stop blaming himself? What will happen if he can let go of the past, which would mean letting go of me? Will he be better off? Part of me wants him to move on, take control of his life… but another part of me wants him to keep coming back. Am I being selfish? How long can I expect him to keep coming?

It’s… well, I guess it’s been about two years now. We’ve both been counting the days, in our own separate ways. And I know that we’ve both been re-living that awful night. We’d both had too much to drink… I’ve been sober ever since.

He’s almost past the trees now. Just a few more steps, and he’ll be here. I wait. Patience is something I’ve learned since the accident. A bird cries in the distance. Greg kneels, and places the flowers. He can’t see me, but I’m smiling. Slowly, he stands up, and begins walking back down the path. And I begin waiting for next Friday.


...from my window to yours...

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Angsty Love Scene for The Voice

I stared out at the moonlight bouncing off the choppy water. The small waves distorted the reflection, ripping and tearing it into millions of shimmering pieces. I blinked once, and then twice, trying to hold back my tears. I couldn’t let him see me cry. I couldn’t seem weak, or needy. I leaned up against the wooden railing, sticking my face out into the breeze. The cool wind felt nice ruffling my hair.

His footsteps creaked on the dock behind me. I waited for him to speak, but he didn’t say anything. He stood next to me, and we stared at the lake in silence. It was easier than looking into his eyes.

Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. “I… I hope you have fun at State.” He nodded. “I hear they’ve got some great parties.” There. I said it. I pushed my hair back into place, and looked at him with a mixture of apprehension and fear.

“Yeah… my brother says they’re awesome,” he mumbled, still staring out into the darkness. Of course he’d say that. Of course he’d be as vague as possible. My hands tightened around the rough wooden railing. What I needed was something more like “Yeah, but I’d rather be with you”, or “I’ll miss you, Alex”, or something like that. Something to push away the nightmares. The constant dreams about him drunk at some party, forgetting about me in a haze of alcohol and hormones.

A tear slipped out of my eye, and started crawling down my cheek. I turned away from him, hoping he didn’t see. “Call me whenever you can, okay?”

He grunted in response. Of course, he wouldn’t call; he’d forget. I’d be the one calling him. I’d be the one leaving tons of voice mail messages, all saying the same thing. “Hey, how are you? How’s school? Are you doing okay? I miss you! Call me!”

I turned to him again, not caring anymore about the tears weaving their way down my face. Wrapping my arms around him in an awkward hug, I clung to his side and buried my face in his shoulder. Here I was again, being clingy and insecure. I bet he couldn’t wait to ditch me as soon as he left.

I looked up at his face, but he was still staring out at the moon. I wished that he would at least look at me. I felt as turbulent as the water out on the lake, but clearly not as interesting. No, I didn’t feel like the water, I felt like I was drowning in it. I held on to him even tighter. But that didn’t stop the drowning.