by Taylor Gould
Setting: Middle-age couple’s dining room.
Character: MAN, married, middle-aged, tightly-wound
The MAN’s wife asks why he’s been behaving so maniacally. The tone is taut.
Let me educate you. You’re so curious. Let me educate you. It’s about being a man. I think that’s what it’s boiled down to for me. No, not being a man, being human. Being a human. I think I’ve figured out what it means to be human. Thing is, I’ve been doing it so wrong for such a long time, and things just…move so quickly… But that’s neither here nor there. You want to know why I’m being this way, so manic, so crazy, so loud, so different, it’s because sometimes you lose your way. Eventually, you lose your way. You settle for things, you sacrifice the big dreams of the eventual for the small actualities of the now, you take the money and run before even trying to answer the million dollar question—y’see? You barter with yourself, and you never come through on the other end—“Okay, well, if I don’t do this, I’ll do this later to make up for it”—and the way things go, so quickly, so harried, you forget you had even made the promise to begin with and when the next compromise rolls around, you take the easy way out, you diverge from that path the 14-year-old you had laid out in dreams and nightmares—in To-Be’s and Not-To-Be’s. You take the wrong path, and, god, you’re running—no, you’re sprinting—and it’s all going too fast—so quickly—and you can’t even see you’re on the wrong road. And some people do, and they backtrack, they trace their steps—“where did I go wrong?”—and some people, shit, it’s so late in the game that you don’t have a chance, even. Life has a way of tricking us into living on its own terms, and we lose track of what we want. Continue reading