Quartering Futility

1.  The Tool Shed

You:  Sit down.
I:       No.  I’ve been sitting all day.
You:  Suit yourself, but you might not be short enough to fit.
I:       I wanted to talk to you, I didn’t say anything about coming inside.
You:  Okay.  Talk.
I:       Couldn’t you at least give me a reason?  I’m seriously starting to question my sanity here.
You:  I could give you a very good reason, although, I don’t think my predecessor would approve.
I:       I’m pretty sure you’ve done things your predecessor would kill you for if she knew.
You:  Shall we talk about what’s really on your mind?
I:       I didn’t think things would get so…
You:  Green and undeniable?
I:       You know what, I shouldn’t have come.  You clearly know just as much as I do.
You:  Don’t be such a Douglas Sirk film about it.  I’ll answer your questions if you would indulge me and please sit down.
I:       I will lean against that stool over there.
You:  Talk.
I:       You could’ve told me about Spain…when you found out about it and not a week before you have to go.
You:   Would you rather I told you while sitting on the coast of the Iberian Peninsula and writing about footprints in the sand? Hahaha.
I:       You put me in a really bad place, you know that?  How am I going to find a replacement for you in less than a week?
You:  It was going to be a surprise, but I guess I’ll have to ruin it now.  I hired a consultant to come Monday morning to assist with the day-to-day until you can find a replacement.
I:       You could’ve just told me.  Why didn’t you tell me?
You:  I thought that if I had told you any sooner that you would want to come too.
I:       You know me better than that.
You:  And now I will have to call and cancel the sword-eater and the balloons.

2.  The Foyer

He:  What is it now?  It’s the third time you’ve been here in less than four months.  Are you not happy?
She:  Couldn’t you at least give me a reason?  I’m seriously starting to question my sanity here.
He:  You are coming to me, not the other way around.
She:  It doesn’t matter what door I open that I’ve never opened before, what I wear, what I eat, what I read, I always end up here with you.  I’m not doing it on purpose.  All roads lead back to you.  What have you done?
He:  All roads are supposed to lead to the Queen of Hearts, hmmm, are you sure you haven’t exhausted every avenue?
She:  If I had exhausted every avenue, do you think I would be standing here?
He:  No, you wouldn’t.  What if someone else opens the door? Hm? Maybe you’ll end up in their drawing board instead of your own?
She:  Already tried it.  Didn’t work.
He:  Well, what would you like me to say?  You keep coming back to me because we belong together?
She:  No!  That’s exactly — that is so far from — I have tried to get as far away from you and this damned room.  And, I think you know why I can’t leave and are choosing to keep that bit of information from me.  You don’t want me to be happy.  You let me go where I want and do what I want until you know that this time I’ll finally get away from you, but instead, I end up here.  And I have to start all over again.
He:  We’re not in a room exactly, though, are we?  The foyer is more of a funnel, a platform.  It is the starting point to other rooms.  You never go into the basement and the attic is out of the question unless someone else wants to find something in there.  The kitchen and you make no sense at all, so that room is not an option.  The bathroom doesn’t count because everybody has to go.
She: And I suppose you want to say that I won’t go into the bedroom because I don’t want people to get too close to me, right? Because I’m not as sweet as I look or as obliging as I seem and when they realize it, they’ll barricade their minds faster than a conspiracy theorist?
He:  Ugh! I am hurt.  Hurt.  You know me better than that.
She:  Evidently I don’t, because if I did, I wouldn’t have to look at you anymore or hear your voice again.  Or be in this place
He:  Hoh.  I am about to break one of my most strenuously enforced rules, but since I’m not so sure I want to see your face or have this conversation again, let me lay it out on you.  You will never break this interior design cycle unless you admit to yourself that you want at least some of the things that you belittle.  Until you confront your commonplace-ness, your sheep mentality, and accept those qualities, you will always end up right here.  And yes, you will have to start over again and again again.
She:  That’s not —
He:  Oh, but that is the truth.  And you say in your sleep that you want the chance to find out if you can leave safety behind and familiar sounds and smells behind, but are you really ready?  Do you really want to know how much lower you can fall before you can soar up to those heights you keep fantasizing about?  It’s not going to be pretty.  It’s not going to be fun.  You will have to endure a lot more than popping up here for an eternity.  You will have to let yourself rely upon someone else and someone else to rely upon you for more than you can imagine.  Are you prepared to be more frightened than you’ve ever been before?
She:  I hate this part.
He: Aha! See.  My point exactly.  If you really never want to see my face again or this foyer again.  You better start loving it.

~!~

Mirror, mirror under my skull.
Would you shut your bitter mouth?