Kit Zauhar's This Closeness is now showing exclusively on MUBI in many countries.
You Made Me Feel (Kit Zauhar, 2024). Photographs by Lonz Espinoza.
You Made Me Feel is a one-act play based off of two relationships I’ve been developing for a novel. The plot is quite simple: a girl (referred to in the script only as “A”) sits at a bar and has two conversations with two men, one after the other, in quick succession. The first scene is with “B,” someone A met during high school when he was her counselor at a filmmaking summer camp. The second scene is with a man with whom she cheated on her boyfriend: “C.” Throughout the course of the play, A interrogates, succumbs to, and defends herself against the two men, digging into the murky nucleus of her desire that has compelled her to lurch for these men, for a life full of wanting ecstatically, at any cost. At its core, the play explores the strange, intense pleasure of being attracted to a person and the risks, rewards, and humiliations one takes to make a longing a reality.
I was kindly asked by Good Evening Rep, an artist-run reading series in New York, to showcase something I’ve been working on for a performance at The Georgia Room on May 23. At the time, I wasn’t working on anything reading-worthy, but I liked the challenge, so I dissected some of my novel and called upon two of my favorite scene partners: Ian Edlund and Zane Pais, both of whom act alongside me in my second feature, This Closeness (2023). That film shares a lineage with this one-act in many ways, from themes to people to that…well, cringe quality people like to associate with my work. I also wanted to explore desire, a young woman’s desire specifically, in a way that is as untethered as possible from guilt, shame, or humiliation, a desire that persists despite how much it is interrogated and shamed. There is so much that is so embarrassing about wanting someone, whether or not they want you back, but to go into the world, into a conversation, thinking of your desire as this urgent, unwieldy thing that someone else must help you grasp—and not something that needs to be chastised or hidden or judged—felt really empowering and true to my experience. So much of how I want and how many of us want is so easily moralized or ridiculed; we’re made to examine it and whittle it down and hide it when it feels at all like it has become inconvenient. But desire is vital and inconvenient; that is the whole amazing point! To make art is the same! I don’t know if we’re better or worse off for it, but it’s too late now to change anything, so.
The one-act has been performed only once so far, but I’m hoping to do more performances with Ian and Zane. And here’s my invitation—if you felt excited, seen, or challenged by reading this—to put on your own version and share the final result with me.
You Made Me Feel (Kit Zauhar, 2024).
AT A BAR SOMEWHERE IN BROOKLYN.
A walks up to C, who is sitting at a table nursing a drink.
C
Hi.
A
Hi.
C
I know you were, like, “I’ll buy you a drink.” But I got here first and felt weird, like, waiting on you to buy me a drink.
A
Oh, yeah—
C
But you can buy the next drink…if we have another drink…if you want to.
A
Okay. Sure.
After a moment.
A
Hi.
C
Hi.
They hug.
A
How are you?
C
Okay. You?
A
Okay, yeah. I’m going to order. You need anything?
C
No, I’m good, thanks.
A
Okay. Cool.
A leaves. C puts her head in her hands for a moment. She senses A coming back and readjusts herself into a seemingly normal and pleasant person.
A
So.
C
So.
A
I have to be honest. I’m a little surprised that we’re doing this.
C
Really?
A
I kind of thought that when we saw each other on the street we were just going to ignore each other.
C
You were prepared to do that?
A
Yeah. Pretty much immediately.
C
Why would we do that?
A
Because there’s no way you have good feelings towards me.
C
People who have bad feelings towards each other don’t acknowledge each other?
A
If they want to make things easier for themselves.
C
But I don’t, like, hate you. I don’t think I’ve given the impression that I hate you.
A
You haven’t, but—
C
I have complicated feelings about you, sure.
A
Mhmm.
C
Did you recognize me...or?
A
Of course. I mean, it took a second to…place you. It’s like when you run into a friend in an unexpected place. It takes a second to recalibrate.
C
Sure. Are you still teaching somewhere?
A
No. I’m, like, full time at this production house now. Doing editing.
C
That’s cool.
A
You graduated college....shit...I’m trying to add up the years...
C
I graduated three years ago. Yeah.
A
Nice. You...liked it?
C
Did I like college? Sure.
A
You studied film?
C
Yeah. I got in with that short you helped me edit at camp, actually.
A
That’s great. You majored in...?
C
Film.
A
I meant more specifically. Like writing, directing—
C
Directing, I guess.
A
You seem irritated.
C
I don’t really want to have, this, like, big catch up of my life since I was sixteen.
A
Okay. So what do you want to talk about?
C
Something else.
A
Something else...in particular?
C
Yes.
A
Okay...?
C
I mean, come on. What happened? That summer, after camp. I want to...I need clarity on that.
A
Um...really?
C
I mean, you agreed to meet me–
A
Yeah, I know, I felt a little trapped–
C
Okay, but you’re, like, a grown man. You could’ve said no–
A
For sure. I know that.
C
You didn’t think that I was going to just ask, like, how your life is going.
A
No, I guess not.
C
Like, I know how your life is going, kind of, because of…social media. Etcetera. I didn’t even have an Instagram when you blocked me on Facebook so…that was easy.
A
Ah, right.
C
So...
A
So...(clears throat) Can you put your phone on the table, actually?
C
Actually?
A
Yeah. Can you, please? I don’t want you to record this.
C
Are you serious?
A
I’m like, open, to talking to you. If you really feel like you need to, um, process or whatever, but you’re definitely not putting it on record.
C
On record?
A
Yeah.
C
This isn’t a set up.
A
I know, I know, but–
C
Are you that paranoid?
A
I wouldn’t consider myself a paranoid person, but I’m starting to feel incredibly, um, weird about all of this.
C
The age of consent is sixteen. You didn’t do anything illegal.
A
Jesus Christ.
C
I consented. In a way. I’m telling you now that I consented.
A
Okay. Sure. I appreciate that.
C
What do you think I’d do with a recording of us talking?
A
I don’t know. Incorporate it into some...feminist video installation. Play it during some feminist...podcast. Who the fuck knows.
C bursts out laughing. She puts her phone on the table.
C
Okay. Sure. Here.
A
Have you told people?
C
Over the years, yeah. My therapist. Boyfriends.
A
I’ve always felt...kind of strange about it.
C
Just strange?
A
Yeah, I mean, what word do you want me to use? I was really drunk. And you…seemed to want it. At least, I got more flashes that you wanted it than you didn’t. I remember when it was like…that camp dinner thing? Where they had that showcase?
C
Yeah, with that beat boxer.
A
Holy shit, yeah. That beat boxer. It went on for like, twenty minutes.
C
I know. That was so bad.
They both laugh, reminiscing.
A
Yeah, and you put you hand on my thigh. Under the table. That felt like your initiation.
C
Sure. I guess that was what it was.
A
Yeah, I mean ultimately I think you initiated. Nothing would’ve happened if you hadn’t done that.
C
Are you sure?
A
Yes.
C
Really?
A
God, yes.
C
I’m not so sure.
A
I’m not, like a, ped–creep. Whatever.
C
It would never have been considered pedophilia.
A
Excuse me?
C
You’re definitely not a pedophile. You’re more likely into neoteny.
A
What is that, exactly?
C
It’s like, being into teen girls somewhere between child and woman, or whatever. Juvenile features on adult forms. Men have a preference towards it. It’s almost coded in your biology, unfortunately.
A
Okay. I mean, I want to let you know that I don’t usually–it’s not like I make it a habit to date younger women.
C
But I don’t think you should be so quick to say you weren’t a creep. I’m not even saying that in a completely bad way. Obviously you needed to be a little bit of a creep for me to think I had a chance.
A
Maybe you were projecting.
C
But I did have a chance, right? Because, well...I got it. And I don’t think anyone was surprised.
A
Who are you talking about? What are you talking about?
C
Because after…after what happened, I remember that the people who knew you there had this look…not of surprise, exactly, but one of like, amusement. Like there were parts of you that were being confirmed as true, and those parts were entertaining, but they weren’t good. Like, people were looking at us together like we were a punchline to a joke we weren’t in on.
A
You’re definitely reading into things. Or misremembering.
C
What do you think I’m misremembering?
A
How much you thought I wanted it. I’m just a fucking guy. I’ll take what I’m given. You were asking to give me something so…I took it. I’m not saying it’s right but I’m saying that…that is often the dynamic.
C
This is what I remembered. After camp we stayed in touch. I went back to Philly. You were here. I was doing all the normal stupid stuff I had to do like SAT prep and hanging out with friends and the entire time we were messaging each other. And then you said you were going to this, like, film thing in Philly–
A
A film showcase, yeah.
C
Sure. Whatever.
A
I don’t remember how much we were messaging.
C
It was a lot.
A
Okay fine.
C
And then we met up at that like, bar, event space, whatever, which I only got into because it was right after a film had ended so no one was really checking who was coming in and out. You were really drunk. I remember that. And you smelled very bad because it was really hot in there–
A
Okay, Jesus–
C
Like, your armpits smelled like an empty bag of sour cream and onion chips. And you bought me a drink. And I hadn’t ever really had a drink before. And I kept asking you these questions about all the things we’d talked about like poems you’d sent me or dumb Youtube clips but you kept staring at me and giving these one word answers and I remember thinking you looked really handsome, but also like really fucking stupid. Like, brain dead. Like, something had broken inside of your skull. And then you kissed me. And then you took me into one those single stall bathrooms...like, the ones for handicapped people, and you put your dick in my mouth and you didn’t take it out until you’d come inside my mouth–
A
Okay! Okay! What the fuck!
C
Is that not what happened?
A
You’re making it sound like I assaulted you! Like you didn’t open your mouth up for me. Like you didn’t want it! You weren’t looking too sharp in the eyes either, if I remember correctly. You also looked pretty fucking dopey. You had this look like you wanted me to just make you do something, because you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You didn’t have to go that...film showcase, whatever. You didn’t have to put your hand on my leg.
C
I wanted to.
A
You could’ve told me to stop.
C
I didn’t necessarily want you to.
A
Alright! So...?
C
Just because I didn’t enjoy the feeling in the moment doesn’t mean I’m not...okay with the fact that it happened. I mean, in the moment, yeah, I felt kind of...I don’t want to say violated. Because if you’d asked me if you could. Or if we’d kissed more or something. I would’ve still done it.
A
Okay.
C
I really liked you. More than you probably liked me. But I was, like, pining for you. I was obsessed with you. I was thinking about you all the time. And then instead of just punishing me by letting me feel this stupid way about you forever you…you, like, led me to very possible end of my desire. You made me confront it. And then you released me from it. I remember walking away and feeling first really...disoriented, then really, um heartbroken, and then really relieved. And I had been feeling super nauseous all the time. And while I was walking home I got really hungry and I got the largest size hoagie from Wawa and ate it in like five minutes.
A
Wow, that’s a nice story.
C
Yeah, it kind of is.
A
So, what? Is this some warped way of you thanking me?
C
No. Definitely not. You were awful to me. You acted disgustingly.
A
I thought you said you were glad it happened.
C
Yes. But there are a million ways my life could’ve gone from there where I could’ve remembered that as one of the most horrible moments of my life.
A
This is kind of unbelievable.
C
What is?
A
This whole...like weird mind game you’re trying to play with me—
C
It’s not a—
A
No. Enough. Let me fucking finish. Trying to make me feel okay about how things went down, then bad, then good, then relieved, then fucking awful again, like what exactly are you trying to do? You already said you’re okay! You said you’ve had boyfriends, right? So obviously I didn’t, um, make you feel repelled by all men for the rest of time. I just don’t fucking get it. Like, you just want me to remember that I did something shitty to a younger woman? That’s, like, sorry to say, every guy I know. That’s going to be every guy you by the time you’re fucking thirty. So I just don’t get it! Are you doing this as some kind of exposure therapy? Is this so you can get material for some stupid blog post you’re going to write?
C
No.
A
What then?
C
I don’t know. I just...when I saw you I liked how I felt. Like, in some ways that I had conquered this man who had had so much power over me and...I could maybe do it again.
A
What, you think you’re superior to me because you have dirt on me?
C
No. Because I was able to move past how much I wanted you.
A
Well, I’m very happy for you. I don't personally think I'm that difficult of a person to move on from...I was engaged, and– anyways, that's not relevant I guess.
C
You were?
A
Yeah. Not for too long. It was dumb of me, of us, anyways...
A beat. They contemplate each other more tenderly.
C
Why did you block me?
A
I don’t know. I felt...bad I guess. I felt, yeah, I don’t know. I was afraid you were going to keep contacting me, reminding me of what happened.
C
I just liked talking to you.
A
I know.
C
I just liked knowing you. I guess.
A
Yeah, I did too. But…it’s good to create distance after something like that. It’s good…I…I didn’t teach at the camp the next year, even though they asked me. It felt weird to. I felt like I wouldn’t grow up if I kept hanging around teenagers who had the same ambitions I did. And that, that made me take myself more seriously. Get my shit together. Apply for full-time jobs. Move into my own apartment. I don't know. Start creating a life for myself.
C
Do you live around here?
A
Not super close. Close-ish. Like, six blocks.
C
It’s a really nice neighborhood. Fancy.
A
Well the people here are boring and passive aggressive, so...
C
I’m glad you’re doing well. Like, I’m genuinely glad that you’re, like, financially stable and live in a nice area and everything. You were, like, worried about that at camp, I remember. Being stuck. Feeling the things I’m feeling now.
A
Thank you. You’re...good?
C
Yes. I’m good.
A
That...is...good.
They smile at each other.
C
Can I kiss you?
A
What?
C
Can I kiss you?
A
No.
C
Okay.
A
Absolutely fucking not.
C
Got it.
A
What is wrong with you? I feel like...like I should be the last person telling you this is the weirdest and most fucked up direction to take things.
C
It feels pretty predictable to me. Why would it be so weird to still be attracted to you? It feels like you’re still attracted to me.
A
Oh my God, yes! But you don’t have to act on every single attraction you have! Sometimes you just have to fucking push it into this little hole in your heart and leave it there and let it rot until you realize it’s something that you have to throw away.
C
That’s not how I want to think about people, how I want to live my life.
A
Great! But keep me the fuck out of it. Keep me out of your life. Please. Mostly for your own sake. Oh my God, what is happening?
C
Okay, fine. I’m sorry you’re so upset.
A
You know why I blocked you? Because I felt done with you. I felt...annoyed by you. I knew you would keep messaging me, and pushing me, and then when you got to New York you’d want to meet up and talk and talk and have this same inane circuitous conversation with me and I didn’t want to do it! I wanted to move on and not fucking process, or deal, or repent. I just wanted to keep going. I cheat on girlfriends and...a fucking fiancé and I look at younger women on the subway in the summer in a way that makes them uncomfortable and I know it and they know it but I know they won’t do anything about it and so I keep going and I’m also daring them to say something, and they don’t and it feels like I won. I want too much like everyone else but unlike other people I’ve done something about it because I can, because I know I have that power. And it’s definitely not good to know I can but it’s too late to give it up, and why would I? What am I going to do? Change? Apologize? I’m not. I don’t want to. And that’s a good enough excuse for me. So I’m done. I’m going to go. Don’t fucking contact me again, okay?
B walks onstage and takes A’s seat.
You Made Me Feel (Kit Zauhar, 2024).
C
Hi.
B
Hi.
C
I know you were, like, “I’ll buy you a drink.” But I got here first and felt weird, like, waiting on you to buy me a drink.
B
Ha, okay. For sure.
C
But you can buy the next drink…if we have another drink…if you want to.
B
Okay. Sure.
C
You’re not going to get something?
B
I will in a second.
C
Oh, okay.
B
How’ve you been?
C
I’ve been okay. I’ve been feeling weird...nervous.
B
Yeah. I guess I’ve felt a little on edge too.
A beat.
B
Do you live around here?
C
No.
B
Oh, well, it’s a nice neighborhood.
C
Yeah, but the people are sort of...boring...and passive aggressive, so...
B
Why do you think that?
C
It's weird, I thought when I saw you again in real life I'd be like, Oh no, he's actually so ugly. What was I doing spending so much time thinking about him? But...well. Yay.
B
I feel...yay too. Yeah, you look like how I...however hazily...remember you too.
C
Good. I guess.
B
Your cheeks are red.
C
Yeah. I know. I can feel it.
B
So has everything been resolved?
C
What do you mean?
B
Like...?
A beat.
C
Oh. No. I didn’t tell him.
B
Ah. I guess I should’ve figured.
A moment.
B
Does he know about me?
C
In what context?
B
Any.
C
Like, does he know about your existence? No.
B
I see.
C
It’s not like I tell him absolutely everything always, anyways. But, I mean. I am specifically not telling him.
B
Yeah. Maybe for the best.
C
His name is Andrew, by the way.
B
Your boyfriend?
C
Yeah.
B
Okay.
C
We’ve been together for, like, almost three years.
B
Alright.
C
It’s just like, maybe you don’t have to see what happened as, like, fully real, like you aren’t seeing the full picture, right now.
B
I don’t get what you’re saying.
C
Like, I guess…I don’t want to ignore the fact that like, Andrew is a real person in this…whatever, dynamic, whatever.
B
I mean, I don’t think you made Andrew up.
C
It’s just that what happened was intense for me and obviously it would be emotionally easier to not talk about Andrew as like a full-fledged person and just this idea but, yeah.
B
Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re going to achieve by telling me about Andrew or trying to get me to think about Andrew as a real person, which I acknowledge that he is, especially because I don’t know this guy and probably should never meet him, right?
C
I guess what I’m saying is—
B puts a hand up, prompting C to silence herself.
B
If you’re trying to get me to think about Andrew as a way to make me jealous, it’s not going to work. I don’t know anything about him and I barely know more about you. If you want me to think about him try and make me feel guilty, so we can commiserate or something, I don’t find that particularly appealing either. I did something because I wanted to, because it felt good, because it made you feel good, and I want to remind you that I didn’t even know you weren’t single until after everything happened.
C
Okay.
B
Shit. I’m not trying to put you in your place, or whatever. That is not my intention.
C
I know.
B
I thought it would be good for us to meet up and just...um, decompress.
C
Yeah, me too.
A rubs her shoulder reassuringly.
B
It’s good to see you.
C puts her hand over his, which he promptly pulls away.
B
Whoa, whoa.
C
What?
B
No, this can’t be. Um, romantic.
C
Then what was that?
B
It was reassuring. Friendly. Um—
C
Intimate.
B
Intimacy doesn’t have to imply romance.
C
But I don’t know you through any other...intimacy.
B
Okay, sure that’s true.
C
You can’t, like, change the language we speak in, suddenly. That’s not fair.
B
But the whole situation is, um, inherently unfair...isn’t it?
C
Between me and someone else, sure. But not between me and you. What we have is separate.
B
It’s not. Every relationship informs every other relationship. None of them exist in a vacuum.
C
Isn’t that what people aspire to have when they’re...cheating? To have a relationship that feels contained and separate and removed?
B
Okay.
C
What?
B
We don't have a relationship. Period. We had an interaction.
C
An interaction...?
B
Yes.
C
So you don't want a relationship with me?
B
I...I am not anywhere near close enough to give you an answer on that. You are currently in a relationship, right?
C
Yes.
A beat.
C
What is going on?
B
What do you mean?
C
Like, why are we meeting?
A
Um, because I didn’t want to leave things so strange and muddled. Like, we...
C
Had sex.
A
Yes. And then you started freaking out after, holding back tears, talking about your boyfriend.
C
I wasn’t holding back tears. I wasn’t being that dramatic.
A
You seemed distressed.
C
I was confused. I was...like, scaring myself.
A
So I thought you might want to talk through what happened.
C
Is this some sort of protocol, like mandated aftercare, post-cheating?
A
You cheated, not me.
C
Oh my God, okay.
B
I don’t want to make things more complicated than they already are.
C
But you said you’ve cheated before.
B
Yes.
C
Okay, so...?
B
Okay, so...?
C
Doesn't that feel like...maybe why you picked me?
B
What do you mean "picked" you? We were at a party talking. Drunk. We were attracted to each other. There was heat, and tension, and weirdness, like a good weirdness between us, so we did something about it.
C
Sure. Yes.
B
And, yeah, I was acting sort of...intensely. Probably because of a recent breakup, internal turmoil, who knows, but—
C
Yeah, maybe you were like, drawn to some...aspect of me. You sensed that we...have similar tendencies. You maybe picked me, subconsciously.
B
I know you so desperately want us to be co-conspirators, but we're not. I didn’t do anything wrong...or, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.
C
Congratulations.
B
Do you feel guilty?
C
I'm not entirely sure. Am I supposed do? Does it mean something’s...broken about me if I don't?
B
I don't know you well enough. Maybe you're broken, or maybe you're just...good at not punishing yourself.
C
I've been thinking about you a lot.
B
Yeah? Well, I’m very flattered. This...situation has obviously been on my mind. More than I’d like.
After a moment. C buries her face in her hands.
C
It's not even like I feel bad, I just feel insane, nervous all the time, which is even worse. I can feel my heart all the time now like ramming against my chest. It's like, insisting on something. I just don't know what.
B
I remember thinking once that I wished I could split off into like, a few different versions of myself and let each of them roam free, each fall in love, have flings, devote themselves to a person for as long as it felt good and felt right. I don't know, because sometimes it feels like too much to be contained in one person. I just feel like I have a lot of...desire...I don't know, that feels like such a...stale word to use for it. I just feel full of this...it's almost like rage but if it were softer. Like, the same amount of energy that anger gives you but instead of it being made of fire it's made of steam. It's like, soft, and spreading everywhere, and you can't catch it, you can't contain it.
C
I think I want that too. I feel like I feel that too.
B
It's a stupid idea though. I mean, I know people feel as intensely as I do. And they're probably better than me because they don't act on it.
C
Do you think I'm worse than other people?
B
No, sorry, of course not—
C
The other people who push everything into a little hole in their heart and let it sit there until it rots? That's the thing, those people who you think are so good and right and restrained are just letting things rot inside of them.
B
I think you sound very young right now. Very young and very spoiled.
C
Excuse me?
B
Are you someone who is accustomed to getting everything she wants?
C
I don't think so, no.
B
You talk like someone who does. Who is able to justify a lot of uncouth shit by claiming there was no other option.
C
Was there another option between us?
B
Of course there was. There were a million different ways that this could've played out.
C
You say that now in hindsight. But you made everything feel rushed. You initiated.
B
Okay. But you could've said something.
C
Would you have stopped?
B
I don't know, maybe!
C
I know you think I don’t know you. But I have a really hard time believing that. From the way you acted, the way you were so...persistent.
A beat.
C
Not saying I’m irresistible or something. I don’t think that highly of myself.
B
I would've tried to...calm the situation down.
C
Sure.
B
I would've buttoned myself up. I would've buttoned you back up. All nice and neat. I would’ve...I don’t know. Walked you out. Got to learn your last name. Told you that you need to...sort your shit out. And after that...we could maybe...I don’t know.
They look at each other.
C
Can I kiss you?
B
What?
C
Can I kiss you? Can we kiss?
B
I don't think we should. Like, add insult to injury, etc.
C
Etc.
B
I'm not trying to hurt your feelings.
C
That's a very nice intention, I guess.
B
You seem irritated.
C
Why are you trying to act like you're above this situation?
B
I don't follow.
C
Don't act like you're a different person than the one who fucked me in a bar bathroom at our mutual friends' Trivia Night birthday party. Like who does that? Who goes to something like that and ends up in the handicap stall while someone is asking a question about Benjamin Franklin? You’re trashy. I'm trashy. We’re trashy.
B
Jesus.
C
At least take some ownership from it. You're acting so disconnected from what you wanted and what you got, and you think it makes you moral and adult but it actually makes you seem really feeble and indecisive and ashamed.
B
I am ashamed!
C
But why? Why can't you just own up to what you want? Why can't you take accountability for the way you felt instead of just playing this stupid coy game? What happened to you having so much desire that you wanted to be split apart into five different horny versions of yourself so you could just go around fucking five different random girls in bathrooms?
B
Yes, I know I said that, and I meant that, but—
C
But what?
B
Let me fucking finish a thought! I don't want to be a person who wants and takes without thinking, without considering other people, who just plows through life fucking and seizing and grabbing at people just because there's something inside of me that wants to. I want to be...better than my desires. My stupid base desires. I want to, like, weigh pros and cons sometimes. I want to have a moment to react, reflect, before I do something crazy. I want to...I need to...be less ambitious about all of this because people get hurt when they see their desires through instead of their responsibilities. We have responsibilities to other people, to a version of ourselves that aims to be...better.
C
That's all very...honorable.
B
Okay, yeah. Thanks.
C
You’re being so different from who you were just a week ago.
B
Well, that’s...something like growth. I guess.
C
No, it feels like you tricked me. Like you put on this act of being someone so...overcome...when really you’re kind of a cautious dweeb. Like, I wouldn’t have put my relationship at risk to be with someone like who you’re being now.
B
I don’t know what to say. I don’t think I have, like, different personalities. I think I’m just trying to have a firmer grasp on a situation. Because I’ve gone through similar experiences in the past and they’ve spiraled, and we started talking about plans before we knew each other, love before we felt it...
C
I’m not going to fall in love with you.
B
Is that so?
C
Maybe that’s an incredibly naïve thing to say, but...but I don’t think it’s going to happen. But even so I feel like I need to see this through. Not, like, in a hopeful way. More like, scratching an itch until it bleeds.
A looks at her with a sort of bemused smile.
B
Is that a challenge or something?
C
No. But it's funny to look at someone and know that in a way they're going to be a waste of time, but want to do it anyways. I guess that's...like, everything to do with lust, wanting, whatever. That’s how you categorize experiences with people who will disappoint you.
B
I think you'd be an incredibly frustrating and kind of amazing waste of time too.
C
I wouldn’t be a waste of time.
B
Why...is...that?
C
Because I would try and try. I wouldn’t give up even after it stopped feeling good.
B
Why would you do that?
C
Because I think it’s better to, like, get hurt and have things finished than spend my life wanting things. Wanting people.
B
I’m guessing you really haven’t gotten hurt. Like, actually hurt. People who have been hurt don’t talk like that.
C
Okay.
B
Like, I know people who have had really fucked up things happen to them. People taking advantage of their naïvety, their desires, or, like, their sadness masked as desire, it’s not good. It changes them. It breaks them.
C
Well, I’m so sorry that’s happened to them.
A beat. B checks his phone.
B
Listen, I have to go.
C
Do you actually or am I making you uncomfortable?
A moment. They both laugh.
B
I have to go. I told you I was only going to be able to stay for a drink...or, like, a drink’s worth of time.
C
Okay, okay.
B
I’ll text you.
C
Sounds good.
He gets up to leave.
C
Why is it so bad to get what you want?
B
Sorry?
C
You framed it as, like, a bad thing. What's so wrong with getting everything you want?
B
Because–I...I don't know. I actually really don't know. It just feels like something that isn't supposed to happen, that we shouldn't be allowed to do. Because then what? Like, seriously, because then what?