The Art of Monologues

Act 1: Scene 1

It's not like we ever sat down and talked about it. It's not like he said ever said, "Lil, I want to talk about us." It's not like he ever said much at all.

…About us, that is. Oh, he had a lot to say about everything else. How if you put your index finger on the air hole and cradle the ball in your hand, standing on the free throw line, aiming for the backboard, you will always make it. How he can never just eat one Pringle, like that stupid commercial, "Once you pop, you can't stop."

And sometimes he looks at me when I'm just so, staring off into the distance, thinking of us… of him and I and are we, we? The silhouettes of shadows are my dreams, just as his, and mine come together, I see him out of the corner of my eye, the perplexed look on my still face. How are we, Justin? Because the shadows lie.

And he looks closer at me, his shadow meeting mine, our shadow heads touching, leaning into a kiss as he stands in front of me. Who are we? Are we, we? Can you tell me Justin? You tell me everything else. And I hear him whisper… "Are you alright, Lil?"

One day I will say, "That's not the right fucking question Justin."

Act 1: Scene 2

So he's running his hands through his hair, the almost non-existent brown bleached blond hair on his head. He always does that when he's nervous. He also focuses on an invisible spot on the floor just in front of him, head down, lips bitten. He's in deep thought today. And I ask him.

"Justin, is everything ok?"

His stare breaks, his head jerks up. I wonder if he even heard me enter and stop and stand in front of him with a blue shirt, jean shorts, and bare toes.

"What?"

"Is everything ok? You look worried."

"Oh yea. Sure. Just thinking a little."

"About what?"

"Nothing important."

"Really?"

"Yea. Here. Sit down." He scoots over on the small couch, making just enough room for me. Well, this was strange. Not strange as in he was acting more distant, but these past few days he'd been so unfocused, lost in his thoughts. That was not the Justin I first met, so confident, cavalier, that he bordered on conceit. But that cool, careless attitude saved him along with a smile that almost seemed as if it could melt the hardest heart. It had melted mine.

I sit and he presses close to me and I can smell the faint salty smell of his skin. Sweat. Justin's a dancer. He'd gotten back from rehearsal an hour ago. Strange that he hadn't showered yet. Justin wasn't fanatical about cleanliness, but he'd always liked to be fresh and showered. He smelled like Dove soap when I met him. He always told me he swore by the things he grew up with. He reasoned that they must have done him good because look at him. And then I'd roll my eyes and smack his stomach lightly as I walked away. He'd follow me, trailing my footsteps and asking the same annoying question over and over again, "Don't you think so, Lil? Come on Lil, I know you think so. In fact I know you know so." And I'd be smiling and refusing to answering him.

"How was your day, Lil? What'd you do while I was gone?"

"I met up with that cute crew guy, Ethan, to continue our sordid affair."

"Oh really?"

"Yup."

"And how long has this new development been going on?"

"Three weeks. There's nothing new about it."

Right about now I always wanted to be on of those famous starlets and face ahead, puffing a long white cigarette through blood red lips. Ok, minus the cigarette. But I don't know what I'd replace it with.

"How is he in bed?"

I shrug, still thinking about starlets with cigarettes because I don't want to think my other thoughts.

"You're just fucking with me, right?"

And I turn to him, his skin still pressed against mine, to see his earnest face, creased slightly with worry. I hardly blink.

"Of course, Justin. When do we do anything else but fuck with each other?"

Fuck. That's not true. Now I'm thinking those thoughts I don't want to think. Fuck. I don't know what to say. So I get up and walk away leaving him to wonder if I really meant it. Of course I did. Of course I didn't. I just never wanted him to know.

Act 1: Scene 3

"Lil. Something's wrong here."

No shit, Sherlock. But I say nothing. I'm reading a book on our bed, or his or mine. I think whose bed it actually was got lost in the past three months.

"Lil?"

"Yes, Justin." I was looking up at him in his wife beater and blue jeans hung low. Justin's abnormal. He looks good in whatever he wears. By anyone's standards he has hideous taste, but he manages to pull it off. Bastard.

"Are you alright?"

I turn back to my book, not bothering to answer.

"Lil?" He pauses, waiting for me.

"Lil? Why won't you answer me?"

Because you asked the wrong question, Justin. But he'll never know because I won't tell him. I hear him sigh and walk away. He gives up too easily. He does that for nothing else. Only this. I close my book and drop onto it, my heart slowing. I would cry, but my tears are all gone. I love him. I hate him. Asshole. Raggedy Ann is coming apart at the seams. And all you can do is sigh.

Act 1: Scene 4

So I'm a bitch. So I hug him; sneer at him; don't answer him. So he stays. Why? I don't know. I never did try to figure Justin out all the way. It's too hard and not worth the effort because you'll always be wrong. But nights we don't talk to each other, we forgive each other, eventually, with his lips on mine and mine on his, his strong hands caressing my back beneath the thin cloth of the camisole I wear to bed.

We're quiet people, him and I. We don't need words to say the things that normal people say to each other; like I'm sorry and excuse me and I love you. You wouldn't think so about Justin, the way he hams it up in front of the camera and sticks out his tongue at every moment he can. I like that tongue, but it's not mine, not like some other things of his. I'd never place claim on something so public, so non-exclusive, so not part of the Justin I love.

Do I love Justin? That's a good question. The answer would be different for different people, just like it would mean different things to different people. Of course, I love him. I love him like I loved that frail blue silk scarf he gave me one day. It was beautiful, just like he was. It's beauty was so fragile, but so strong, like his. The silk against my skin felt like his skin against mine after he'd just showered and dried off. But mostly I loved it because it smelled like him.

I don't know where he got it. I never asked. At first I thought it had belonged to one of his past girlfriends, past flings, past one night stands. When he gave it to me, I took it expecting to feel someone else on the smooth surface, to smell another's perfume wrapped in the threads. But I didn't. When I touched it to my face, I felt only Justin.

I don't think you get it. I hardly get it myself, but I love Justin because Justin gives me himself, because Justin never asks for anything more than what I have to give. He's the kind of person that accepts. I love that about him. Now I wish he'd change.

Act 2: Scene 1

Yea, she used to call me twinkle toes. I used to hate it with a passion. "Twinkle Toes, come and dance for me!" I danced for her. "Twinkles Toes, why don't you sing for me?" I sang for her. "Twinkle Toes, shut up." I shut up for her. Yea, I really used to hate it. I even once asked her why she liked calling me that. She just shrugged and told me the nickname had grown on me. She didn't look so well, her eyes distant, her hair dull, her body limp. I asked her if she was all right. She never answered. She never does anymore. She used to laugh like chimes, but smoother, longer and continuous. I miss her laugh, her voice. I even miss twinkle toes.

She reads her books a lot now, a lot more than she used to. Not to say she didn't read before, just not books and not as much. She used to read me; well she tried. She liked watching the way my hands held her and the way my eyes scanned her face when she talked. She used to get irritated when I forgot to listen to her when I was tracing her face. She doesn't really get irritated when I don't listen to her now, because there's nothing to listen anymore. Instead, she let me have my way and now I have to look and look and look some more. That's all.

But what am I looking for you ask? Sometimes I think anyone's answer would be as good as my own. I look for so many things. I look to see if she's ok. I look to see if she's frowning or smiling. I look to see if today she's decided to look at me. But usually I look to see if she's still there. You see this Lil is rarely the Lil I used to know, first met, still love. She's obscured herself from me. Her face, her expressions, her thoughts...they're gone. She used to tell me things. We used to have these nights where we'd just talk and talk for hours sitting on our bed. Granted, I did most of the talking, but Lil has always been a good listener. I like that about her, her patience.

Maybe she's too patient now though. It's like she waiting for something... something from me, but I don't know what. Her patience is silence and it's driving me mad. Sometimes I really hate her for shutting me out like this. Sometimes I want to scream and yell and cry. Sometimes I want her to scream and yell and cry. But Lil has that composure that I love, always so cool and calm. I always wanted to be that way. She doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve. Not like I do.

Act 2: Scene 2

She's running out the door. She'd be flying if she had wings. Her hair is stringing behind her. I'm always watching her...

"Lil." It came out before I could stop it.

And she stops. "What Justin?"

Why did I do that? I'm always doing stupid things. I think on my toes... the ones that are bruised from too much practice and stubbed on words.

"Where are you going?"

"Out to the market."

"What for?"

"I need to pick up a few things before next week."

That's right. Next week is a busy week for both of us. Lil's really an actress, up and coming. But for now she works at a talent agency. Funny, the irony of her job... how she greets her prospective competition everyday; how she sees them rise and maybe fall, while she just stands still. I wonder if it makes her jealous. I never asked. Not because I wouldn't be interested to know, but Lil never talks about that kind of thing. When she talks, she talks in general.

"Can I come?"

She looks surprised. We never go anywhere together anymore.

"Sure... But hurry up. The store closes at six today."

It's almost five o'clock. "Six?"

"It's Sunday, Justin."

"Oh." She's right. Where does time go? I look at her again, her stance impatient, her eyes not looking at me. Where did Lil go? The Lil I used to know. She used to smile. She used to love me. Time flew. And so did she.

Act 2: Scene 3

Lil's uncomfortable. I can tell. She's driving the car with both hands on the steering wheel, back straight... rigid. The car is almost silent, filled only with the breathing we can't disguise.

"What did you need to pick up?" We're almost there.

"I just wanted to get some bagels and maybe some fresh strawberries for next week. I won't have time to do the shopping then." Strawberries are her weakness.

I nod. "How was your day?" I'm looking at her. She tenses briefly before she relaxes again. She has not looked at me once during the entire car tide. There is a pause.

"Same old, same old Justin. You know."

I don't really, but I nod anyway so I can get out of the car. We just pulled into the parking lot.

Act 2: Scene 4

There's a sale on canned peas in aisle two. I know. I heard it on the speaker. Four times. Lil is silent so I've reverted to listening to the elevator music they play in here.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?" I'm talking to Lil.

She shrugs. "Food. Did you have anything you wanted specifically? There are those Domino's coupon on the fridge. You could order pizza."

"I don't think I feel like pizza. I had that two days ago."

"Well order Chinese then."

"No." I grimace. "Last time it didn't agree with my stomach."

She shrugs again. She's looking at all the bagels, deciding which she can tolerate for a week. Lil likes variety. She used to tell me it was the spice of life. That was when she spoke to me of her own free will about things I didn't need to know. That was when she still smiled. Maybe I took her for granted then. Now that she's gone, I realize that I miss her. Hindsight's a bitch.

"I know!" It's a great idea.

"What do you know, Justin?" She still looking at those damned bagels.

"Let's eat in tonight Lil. Just you and me."

She sighs. "Justin, I really don't feel like cooking. Besides, eat what? We have no food in the house and I only brought enough money for a bag of bagels and some strawberries. And I am getting those." She's standing up now, not looking at those bagels, but not looking at me either. Hell, at least she sighed. It's a response, isn't it?

"No, no. I have money. And I can cook!"

Now I really had her attention. This is what I want. She is openly staring at me.

"Justin, you can't boil water without burning it."

"O, ye of little faith." I pull my wallet from my back pocket to see how much money I did bring with me. Hmm. Thirteen dollars.

She can see. "Thirteen dollars, Justin? What gourmet feast do you plan to prepare for us on that budget?"

I wince.

Immediately her eyes darken. "Sorry."

I nod. My eyes brighten. "Hey. Sale in aisle two."

Act 2: Scene 5

So this is what I wanted. Her sitting at the table fiddling with the fork she set down. Me, at the stove, not burning water. Just one more turn of the spatula...

"It's done."

I'm looking at her. She looks up, the fork suspended in motion. She looks so small sitting there, lost in the chair and under the tablecloth.

"Well? How does it smell? Wonderful? Great?"

"Better than I thought it would."

Somewhat weak, but the fruit of my labors has not been lost.

I dish things out silently. I take the easy way out most of the time. I say I have a cramp when I'm tired, a headache when I'm depressed and want to be left alone. When I must cook, I take the easy way out and make something that's almost a meal in a can. And when I want to say something, but can't find the words, I don't try. I just say nothing at all. Like now. When I cooked spam, rice and peas. Like now. When I looked away and shut my mouth and said nothing at all to her.

No one can always take the easy way out.

"Lil. I know something's up. What's wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

She's picking at her food. The green peas are rolling around her plate at the whim of her fork.

"Lil. Please answer me."

She takes a deep breath. "I'm not avoiding you Justin."

"Well, you really could have fooled me." I shove some of the spam, peas and rice into my mouth. Taste is lost in the even faint anger.

Lil has eaten one pea. "Let's just eat Justin. I don't want to fight." She puts a fork full into her mouth and chews.

I start thinking and it's silent for a while. The anger has not lessened and I'm afraid... afraid for Lil, for me, for what this means. The ego that I was always do sure of has now been bruised. I tried. I tried, I tried, I tried.

When her plate is a quarter gone, she speaks to me. "This is really good, Justin. Thanks for cooking dinner tonight."

I nod. "You're welcome." But I am thinking about what she had said earlier and I can't hold it in. "It's really sad, you know."

"What is?"

"That you don't want to fight."

"Justin..."

"You never want to do anything with me anymore, Lil. Now we can't even fight."

"Now, Justin..."

"Let me tell you something Lil. Some things are worth fighting for. But you can't fight for something that isn't there."

She's silent now. Forks don't move, we just stare across a table for two and the glass on the sliding door shows a couple, a shell of what we used to be. I used to tell her everything. Now I'm reduced to this. I was looking for a spark, some emotion, something to let me know that Lil hasn't vanished as I suspect, but she doesn't even want to give me that.

I lost my appetite at the same time I realized I'd lost Lil. I got up from the table. I left behind the stranger that lives in Lil's body now.

Act 3: Scene 1

I haven't spoken to him in a week. Not that I expected too. He's never home these days and when he is, he doesn't sleep in our bed anymore. I never knew whose it was and now he's made sure I know it is mine. What we had used to be dying. I'm not altogether sure it's not dead yet. He never asked me, not even one little question. It was so simple. I don't understand why it never occurred to him to ask about us. It was always how are you, what's wrong, how are you, are you mad at me, how are you, why won't you say anything. There are two people that makes up us, Justin! Two. It can't be only me that's the problem. Not that there is any us anymore anyway.

Was there ever any us?

I don't like to kid myself. Of course there was. How do you think this whole shebang started?

So what went wrong?

What went wrong? I'm not so sure that's question. What went right?

All I remember is a beautiful man - one who stopped listening to me three months ago, didn't love me and still stayed. And then I knew nothing was right. Because he was just sticking to what he knew and there ceased to be any more variety in life, in our lives, in life as 'us'. Don't you see? We ceased to be 'us' when he stopped caring about it and only started expecting it. Our life is empty - everything that used to be there is gone, sacrificed to the god of safety and comfort. I wish I knew exactly when we stopped burning incense to the god of love. Well, I never stopped. But he did.

Act 3: Scene 2

I can look through the windows of our house right now and see her. She's at the table looking dull and listless - the only expression I see these days. She's eating her bagels and strawberries with some sugar. She bought blueberry bagels that smell wonderful in the morning when she toasts them. I saw her toast two once. I was sitting in the kitchen already when she came downstairs. We hadn't spoken more than two words that night and they certainly were not I'm sorry or let's talk. It was more like excuse me and please don't. That morning she toasted two I got up and left. Not as though I wasn't late already, but that was cruel of me to just leave like that, no explanation and no goodbye. I don't remember when I became a cruel person. Perhaps when she started to hate me, and the life she led.

Could it be that it had gotten to be too much for her? That I was away too long and she felt ignored? Surely she did not. Why would she? For a long time after the day got to be silent, the night wasn't. We made up in the nights. I thought that was alright. Maybe that was her way of trying to hold on... but to what? She never laughed, never smiled again, just listened to me ramble. Hold on to what? To me? I was still there Lillian. I never left. You were the one that started to fade. Now you are the one who has disappeared. And I miss you like hell.

Act 3: Scene 3

I found a strawberry in the shape of a heart today, a big fat heart. I knew it was malformed, two strawberries in one and something that looked like a jagged tear sewn up right in the middle. I didn't eat it.

I'm thinking of leaving. There's nothing here anymore. Not as if he'll care anyway. Not as if he'll know. I think I am. Leaving that is. It's ten o'clock in the morning. And I'm leaving right now.

Maybe I'll take the strawberry with me. Or maybe I'll leave it here for him to see. Not like he'll notice. He never notices anything anymore. I wonder how long it will take him to notice I'm gone. I wonder how long it will take him to care. Don't hold your breath. Might be a long time. I'm not sticking around to find out.

Act 3: Scene 4

Practice was cancelled. It's just as well anyway. I wouldn't have wanted to be there. I want to be home and have everything the way it used to be. I want Lil to smile at me and hug me again. I want her to kiss the tip of my nose and tell me that it is wonderful to see me. This silence is killing me. I'm starting to fade too. But I don't want to fade yet. I still want to see if there anything left to salvage besides a broken heart.

Act 3: Scene 5

"Where are you going?"

"Justin!"

"What are you doing?"

"I... I..."

"Lil, there's a suitcase right in front of you and you're throwing clothes in it. Are you... are you leaving me?"

"What are you doing home so early Justin?"

"Practice was cancelled. But Lil are you leaving me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?!"

-----

"Why, Justin? Because there isn't anything left here for me here."

"I'm still here. I never left."

"No Justin. No... you just wouldn't get it. Forget it. Just let me finish and I'll leave."

"You're the one who left! You vanished; you disappeared. I don't even know who you are anymore and I don't know where to find you."

"Me? You're blaming this on me?"

"Well who else? I don't understand Lil! One day you just started changing. You didn't do the things you used to do. You didn't smile at me and wait for me to come home. You didn't care anymore Lil. What was I supposed to think? I'm not a mind reader. You were fading Lil. And there was nothing I could do about it."

"Nothing? Me, fading? How is it possible that you don't know?"

"Don't know what? Tell me Lil. What is there for me to know? It's not like you ever talked to me and told me!"

"I didn't think I needed too! It was clear as day what the problem was Justin!"

"Then why don't I know?!"

"Because..."

Act 3: Scene 6

Because I didn't know. I stared at a man I used to know so well, inside and out. I didn't know him anymore, even though I still loved him.

He never stopped yelling.

Act 3: Scene 7

"What the fuck is wrong here Lil? I really don't know what you've cooked up, but I obviously am not in on it."

"Justin..."

"Are you having an affair? Oh God... That day you told me you were having an affair... it was true, wasn't it? I didn't believe it was true... Oh God. You're leaving me for him, aren't you?"

"Cheating on you? Justin, are you mad? You don't know me at all. Cheat on you? I can't believe you would even think that of me. You don't know me at all."

"Then what is it? No, Lil, I don't know you at all anymore. You never talk to me anymore. I don't know what you're thinking, what you're feeling. I don't even know that you are! Why have you shut me out Lil? Why?"

"I never shut you out, Justin! Don't you see?! You are the one who shut me out. Shut US out. One day you stopped caring about us. And I realized that we were just... there! No purpose anymore. You just stayed because you have no where else to go!"

"Lil, I never went..."

"No! No interruptions! You listen to me for once! I loved you. I did. Till you started to stop with this relationship. Decided that it wasn't worth the effort. That I wasn't worth the effort. I'm not you Justin. I'm not willing to take just what you're willing to give. If you want my heart, dammit, then I want it all too. I deserve that! You left me long before I left you. I've finally wizened up to the fact that you don't need me anymore, don't love me anymore and stay because this is something that's always just there. Well I'm sorry Justin, I won't just be there! I won't be your fucking comfort zone! I want to be your friend, your lover... not someone you just come home to! Go find another puppet. I love you, but I'm through being stringed along."

Act 3: Scene 8

I couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. I couldn't believe what she was saying. I was stringing her along? I was... keeping her with me because she was comfortable to me? What kind of bullshit is that?

I told her.

Act 3: Scene 9

"I'm doing what?"

"Stringing me along."

"Lil... Why would I do that?"

"I don't know! You just did."

"Lil, stop packing. We need to talk."

"No. There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes there is."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there is."

"No, Justin. There isn't. It's over! I'm sick and tired of your bullshit!"

"My bullshit?! When all you say is..."

"Don't you dare go and try to turn the tables on me, Justin. Don't you dare! I gave you everything! I've tried talking about it with you and all we've ended up doing is sleeping together! You tried to kiss away my tears, but you fail to understand that I'm crying inside too!"

"Lil... you're crying."

"What's it to you? Do you get a kick out of the tears you see? Is this what you wanted? Me to cry for you? Just get out Justin. It'll be easier once you're gone."

"No. Lil, I..."

"All you had to ask was about us, you know."

"What?"

"About us. That's all I wanted to hear. But all you asked about was me. Like I was the problem and there wasn't two of us in a relationship."

"I didn't mean..."

"Shut up, Justin. Now I know I was right. You did think I was the problem all along."

"But..."

"But what Justin?"

"What is this?"

"I'm not sure."

"The dying of a relationship?"

"Ha. You're so eloquent Justin. But it can't be dying."

"Why not?"

-----

"Well, Lil?"

"It can't be dying, because it was already dead."