∆∆•∆∆

April 7th, 2008

A young woman sits quietly on her couch, anxiously tapping her fingers against her thighs in an anxious manner. She doesn’t breath so the time will seem to have slowed down. She waits for him. The door bell rings. She answered and he stood there with his head down looking up at her.

Veda: (pauses and gives a hesitant smile.) Hey!

Adis: (Immediately replies back with a grin.) Hi!

(He’s taking his shoes off and she’s leaned up against the door frame waiting patiently. They walk into the living room and sit.)

Veda: Um, are you thirsty! Do you want anything to drink? Water?

Adis: (Quietly responds.) Oh, uh, yeah! Sure, water.

Veda: Okay! Cool. (She gets up and heads to the kitchen. He follows.)

Adis: Thank you! (Smiles graciously.)

(They’re both keeping an abnormal distance from each other. He is puzzled as to why there is such a distance but does not ask. She keeps giving subtle grins and opening her mouth as if to speak.)

Adis: What?

Veda: What do you mean?

Adis: You part your lips as if you want something to come out of your mouth.

Veda: I know…

Adis: Well…. You can’t just open your mouth and expect words to come out of your mouth.

Veda: Yeah…. Sorry. I’m overwhelmed. I think. Well, no, I’m just worried. I guess.

Adis: About what? It’s okay. I value your thoughts and what you say to me. (He begins to play with her left hand, as she stares off behind him, in deep thought.)

Veda: I hate words sometimes. They’re never soluble enough. They can’t hold the weight of emotions. Words are shit for tools of communication. They don’t mean what I meant, they don’t say what I said; these letters strung together to form whole words are just the crust of the meaning.

Adis: Just spit it out.

Veda: (Pauses then proceeds hesitantly.) Um…. I heard about a woman whose secret fantasy was to have an affair with an artist. She believed he would see her and all her reasons for insecurity as something beautiful…

Adis: (Confused but quietly responds and encourages her to continue.) Yes…

Veda: He would see every curve, every line, every indentation and love them because they were part of what made her unique.

Adis: (He smiles.) That’s beautiful. I dream of being that for people. Possibly, validating their beauty so that they begin to see it too.

Veda: That would be a very admirable thing to do. But it’d have to be a secret. And you couldn’t confuse afflatus with love.

Adis: Couldn’t I have both? My love is my inspiration?

Veda: No.

Adis: Why not?

Veda: Because! It’s obvious why! You couldn’t have both! Do you honestly think that sort of relationship would last? For it to last it must be able to evolve. Like how liquid can change shape and adapt to its container and temperature. Or like clay!

Adis: (He interrupts and is meek.) I love your ‘clay-hugs’.

Veda: (She pauses but continues to speak.) That’s just a relationship built on an unstable foundation. It’s doomed.

Adis: I don’t think so…. My inspiration changes as my art grows.

Veda: Yes! And don’t you think she’d be hurt if you found inspiration in another woman, or man?

Adis: (He is meek in his reply.) I’d hope that she’d support me as I would her.

Veda: I would support you if you loved me at the depths that I do you.
(Pauses and stares him straight in the eye.) I’m too deep to not notice that you’re still in shallow water….
(mumbles) and pissing in it.

Adis: (Shocked and hurt by what he realizes is the truth.) I…. I…. I care for you. So much. I don’t think that you understand how much I care.

Veda: I know you do. And I care for you, but I want to feel that you love me. I’m sorry. This is so selfish of me. I’m sorry. I’m just angry.

Adis: I know you’re angry. I’m sorry.

Veda: For what?

Adis: For being so ignorant about myself.

Veda: So, I’m right to be feeling as if I am nothing more than your Venus?

Adis: Yes, and I’m sorry for that.

Veda: (Calms down and collects herself.) It’s okay. It’s already happened. We can only wait now.

Adis: This is the end.

Veda: Of a chapter. Not a book. You know….
“…life’s not a paragraph
And death I think is no parenthesis”

Adis: E.E. Cummings?

Veda: (She smiles at him with contentment and her eyes begin to glaze.)

Adis: (He smiles wide then frowns and stares at his lap in grief. He fidgets with his hands.) I’m sorry.

Veda: (She shakes her head and gently places her hands on his.) No. Don’t. It’s okay.