- I hate you
- What?
- I hate you. And I hate me more.
- You didn’t hate me 10 minutes ago.
- Yes I did. You’re pathetic.
- You didn’t think I was pathetic 10 minutes ago.
- Yes I did. I thought you were pathetic and I thought I was pathetic and we are pathetic and this is pathetic.
- Just stop it, you keep doing this. We’re not hurting anyone – its just a bit of fun
- No, its not
- You didn’t think it wasn’t fun 10 minutes ago
- Oh fuck off! Just, just …fuck off.
- Listen, baby, we can…
- We can what? WE CAN WHAT? Get married? I can move it here with you and your wife and live in the spare room until you’re in the mood? We can go on holidays and sight seeing and I can come out every now and then and be … what?
- I … I…
- And don’t ‘baby’ me.
- You always seemed to realise what this was.
- Yes I thought I did. I really did, but I don’t now. I don’t understand any of it.
- You knew what you were getting into…
- You bastard. How old was I when this first happened?
- I don’t know, like twenty-one?
- It was nine years ago.
- I’m not sure that’s true, I thought…
- No you didn’t. You knew exactly what you were doing and you took great pride in it.
- You were well up for it…
- I WAS SEVENTEEN, YOU UTTER CREEPY BASTARD! You knew what you were doing. I was a sulky teenager doing a boring job and being shouted at by my parents. You were a grown up and knew exactly what buttons to push.
- Its not like I was some kind of rapist, you…
- I’m not claiming that, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just asking that you at least admit that you knew what you were doing and that it wasn’t in any way love or passion or anything like that., It just that I was a young girl that you wanted to lay. That was it and there was nothing else.
- No, you meant more to me than that.
- Not that first time. Maybe never. But certainly not that time.
- I thought about leaving my wife for you.
- No you didn’t. Not any more than ‘I’d like to fuck her more often and getting rid of the wife would allow me to do that’ way. What, was she telling you off? Nagging you when you had this thought?
- For fuck’s sake. It’s not like I’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. You knew I was married.
- No. That first time, I kind of allowed myself to ignore the fact.
- How convenient. You ‘allowed yourself to forget’ m’lud. You never did anything wrong and I was the terrible bastard the entire time.
- I was a teenager. And yes you were the bastard. And every time since then, I’ve been as guilty as you. And its killed me every single time.
- But you kept coming back.
- Yes I did. Do you know why?
- I was the older man, I could do things that your other boyfriends couldn’t?
- Oh yes, the earth moved, and I was forever broken and nothing or nobody else could ever do it for me again. No. You’re not that special. You were kind of sexy for the first few years, but you’ve gotten fatter and you’ve got grey hairs and was never about the sex anyway.
- Oh you got what you wanted didn’t you so don’t fucking sulk, alright? It wasn’t about that. It was something different. To begin with going home with you somehow made me a grown up, like I was doing grown up things – boozing and sex. Then when I was older, I was in the same old town, seeing the same old people, doing the same old job. It was grey and dull and soul destroying, and you, you were a release from that. I could slip away and we could stay in your bed, and it was exciting and wrong and terrible and I couldn’t fucking stop. It was like the only thing in my tiny little life that wasn’t controlled by my folks, or by my boss, or by someone telling what to do. My friends all hated you and hated me for doing it, but I didn’t care. They didn’t know how fucking bored I was.
- So why are you shouting all this at me now? Why not just leave it as it is. A bit of fun and freedom.
- Because it wasn’t freedom at all. It was you who was doing the controlling.
- I’ve never forced you
- You’ve said so.
- Well I haven’t
- You’re a fucking hero. But it stops now.
- Come on, you’ve said that before. Just let tonight calm down and we’ll see where we are next week. Maybe we can go for dinner; we’ve never done that before. Or a weekend away, or…
- No, you don’t get it do you? I don’t want any of that. It stops now because its right that it stops now, it should never have started.
- Come on, you know you’ve said all this before…
- Those times I hated you and hated me, but knew that I still needed that escape. I knew I’d just end up back here all over again.
- You’ve still got the same friends and job and the same town-
- Yes, I know. But this isn’t an escape. Not anymore. You’ve just become part of the same old. Same old streets, same old clothes, same old fucking the married guy down the road. You know I saw her the other day?
- Who?
- Your wife, the lady in the picture you don’t think I notice you turn to the wall.
- Oh, well…
- I pitied her. I hated myself and pitied her. Like I was in some way better than her because you chose me when you could. And I got home and I just cried and cried. I cried because I’ve hurt her for no reason other than I’m bored. For no reason that I’ve absolutely nothing better to do than fuck you once in a while. And that absolutely kills me, because I hate that, and I hate myself even more because I’ve become the person that does this by choice now. And I can’t be that person. I have to stop this now because I can convince myself that I’m stopping because its wrong. And not just because it bores me.
- Its getting light…
- I know the role; I know I need to leave before she gets back, the whore running away.
- You are not …
- It’s time to stop. Its all got to stop.
- Goodbye, Can I see you again, y’know, as friends
- We were never friends. And no, please don’t talk to me anymore. Or do, it doesn’t matter, I’m done with this. I’m not seventeen anymore.
- I think I love you.
- No you don’t. And right now, neither do I. But I want to. Let go of my hand. The sun’s coming up. She’ll be home soon.
- Where are you going to go?
- Away. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere else but here.
- It’s been really great, are you sure.
- I’m sure. I’m really sure.
- Shit! What was that?
- It was the door, the fucking front door…!
All In ... 