2.1.2007: In Which The Hardest Thing to Do Is Done

The Guy and someone we haven’t seen but who’s been lurking here all along – The One Before.

They sit.

THE ONE BEFORE
I’m lonely.

THE GUY
I know.

THE ONE BEFORE
I never see you.

THE GUY
I know.

Silence.

You know they both have things to say. They have many things to say. But they don’t.

Because it’s hard to say the things that need to be said. They’re even hard to insinuate in a stage direction.

And it’s so impossible for these two people to articulate the fact that things have gone wrong, and it’s painful, painful because they so wanted this thing to work out, and it could have, it SHOULD have, but it hasn’t, and now here they are, in two separate lives, and they don’t really know how to deal with that, so they sit here, not saying anything, or saying hardly anything, leaving gulfs between them, wanting something back that can never be gotten back, and so maybe if there’s a rambling ridiculous unstageable stage direction without an end then maybe they never really have to get to the next line, and nothing ever has to be spoken, not ever again, and they can just sit like this, forever, waiting it out, keeping whatever is painful at bay.

But you can’t wait forever in a play. There are cues to get to. Entrances to be made.

And exits.

THE GUY
I’m sorry.

THE ONE BEFORE
I know.

THE GUY
This is not how I wanted this to end.

THE ONE BEFORE
I know.

THE GUY
I could have written this better. I tried. I really did.

THE ONE BEFORE
I know.

THE GUY
So…

THE ONE BEFORE
I know.

And the hardest thing to do is done.

The lights go down.