A piece of firewood walks near it with another piece of firewood who is a realtor.
Realtor. I think this one is fantastic. And perfect for someone living alone.
Wood. By choice. I'm living alone by choice.
Realtor. Pardon?
Wood. I could be with someone... I'm just choosing not to... you know... be with someone.
Realtor. Of course, Dear. The utilities here are absolutely top notch a real-
Wood. What do you mean?
Realtor. Come again?
Wood. You said 'Of course, Dear' as if to say 'That's what they all say."
Realtor. True.
Wood. What's true?
Realtor. That's what they all say.
Wood. Say? I said, 'What's true?' that's a question. If anything you should say, 'That's what they all ask." You are simply confusing the hell out of me and I want to... curl up... or... warp or something. It's just..
(Pause)
Realtor. These windows over here are incredible. They are made from authentic-
Wood. He hates me.
(Pause)
Realtor. Let me show you the basement. Never floods. Swear to God. It dates back to-
Wood. I'm afraid that I didn't really love him. I think I was in love with him once but after a while it just turned into a battle that I had to win that I had to have him. I'm not sure. No. Yes. Maybe. Yes. yes. yes. I love him. I do. I think. Perhaps. No. Yes. I do. I love him.
(Pause)
Realtor. The garage is a real fixer upper. Shelfs as far as the eye can see, and you said you wanted attic space, yes? Well Honey let me-
Wood. One time he-
Realtor. SHUT THE FUCK UP!
(Pause)
Realtor. I've loved someone who didn't love me back too, Okay? Do you see me walking around and shoving it into every single meaningless conversation I have of ever single meaningless day I live? No. You think you are the only one who hurts? You're wrong. Yes, your hurting is unique. Yes, it is more painful than anything you have ever felt before. I don't know how it feels but I know that it is a horrible feeling. You feel ugly. You feel like you're pores seep slime like sap from a tree. And bugs stick to it and so your skin is infested with insects. Then when you finally do muster up the courage to go out in daylight you feel like everyone is looking at you. Looking at you and talking to you but not really talking to you they are talking AT you. Just a pavlovian response to daily casual exchanges, while in their heads they are looking at you and thinking 'What the fuck happened to this poor fellow. He must have fucked up really really really bad. I can smell him from here' Then you run home and you curl up on your couch and you cry. Cry more than you've ever cried before. You cry because you try and think of something that will make it better and all you can think about it him. And by this point if he came walking through that door and said he wanted to be with you. You would get up and spit in his face and say 'FUCK YOU'. If there is a vase handy- throw it at his face. He'll run crying and screaming out the door. If you're lucky he'll fall down the stairs. Fall down the stairs and die. And then you'll lock yourself back in the apartment and cry more and more. Nothing can make you stop. Nothing should make you stop. but congratulations. This is how we grow. This is how we know we are alive. Imagine living and not feeling this. You feel the love that you had for this person which on that one rainy day at the end of April you held him in your bed and thought to yourself, 'This... this will last forever'. And now you feel this. Loathing. Some people never experience this. Everyone is disappointing after you get to know them.
(Pause)
Realtor. So... let me show you the master bedroom. It is absolutely charming.
They walk off.
The audience is encouraged to keep watching until the fire has burned out completely. Think of it as a meditation mat.
Tilt your head back.
Breath.
END
