Writing, it’s this thing I do–this thing I will be doing a lot more of in the next coming weeks. However, I wanted to share a tidbit of something that I wrote a little bit ago in response to one of Nika’s writing prompts. (If you have never checked out her in Word Play, you should hop to that… like now).
The assignment, as it were, was to write a dialogue heavy scene and out of the given prompts I chose, “Why you just don’t GET it.”I’m not sure if the actual words were meant to go in there, I worked off of the feeling/impression that sentence gave me and came up with the scene you can read below.
And then last night I recorded a song to go along with it. I’ve mentioned before that I like to put soundtracks to everything… and I would like to start trying to marry my singing to my writing more… so here we go:
She was waiting for him when he re-entered the living room. Her hair was slightly mussed and her t-shirt askew, suggesting she’d been asleep when he’d first come in. He should have been quieter.
He swallowed. “I didn’t realize you were home, it was so quiet when I… I thought you were working today.”
“They let me have it off.”
“Right… Good. Well, I just… came for the last of my things.”
“Ah. That it?
“Yeah, I think so. I came earlier in the week too–
“Yeah… So… there wasn’t much left. Odds and ends. Real quick stop.”
“How have you been?”
“Paris is waiting for me downstairs.”
“Oh. How is she?”
“Good… good… We’re uh… seeing a show at the Pantages.”
“That’ll be nice.”
“Yeah…” He pretended to scan the room one last time for anything he might have missed. “Well, I should get going…”
He hesitated. “What?
“I’ve given it a lot of thought and I don’t think this makes any sense.”
“It makes a lot of sense.”
“I love you.”
“And I think you love me.”
“Please. Don’t do this now.” His hand was on the door knob.
His throat tightened.
“You’re not supposed to leave. That’s not how it goes. I say, ‘I love you’ and you say it back and everything’s right again. But you have to say it back, or… or it doesn’t work…”
“Do you love me?”
“We drive each other crazy.”
“Answer the question.”
“It wouldn’t change anything even if I did.”
“Because life doesn’t work that way, Romy, we don’t live in a god damn fairytale!”
She took this in for only a moment. “Then tell me you /did/ love me.”
“Even if it’s a lie. Tell me that if things had been different, we could have been happy together.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Damn it, Julien, this is my LIFE we’re talking about! Is it so hard for you to tell one little fucking lie?”
“I’m not arguing with you.” He opened the door and her hand pushed it shut again.
“I opened up to you. I didn’t want to but you were insistent. You were determined to make me love you, to show me that I could love you. Well guess what, you heartless piece of shit? You succeeded! I opened my arms and I let you eviscerate me from neck to navel so you could pull back the skin and peer at everything I had inside of me. You thumbed through the chapters, left your grimy fingerprints all over, and now that you’ve read enough, you think you can just leave me like this? Wide open, dirty, and ill-equipped to sew myself back together? No. You made me love you, so you’re going unmake me before you walk away again.”
“Romy, I…” His mouth felt dry and he cleared both his throat and his courage. “I don’t have time for this.”
Her hand dropped numbly from the door and he exited without further argument.