Something Real and Good Page #3

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What do you mean?

Well...

it's like we'll never be satisfied

with real life love

because movies have led us to believe that

love is lived out in a never-ending montage.

They make it into this magical thing it's

just gonna somehow solve all your problems.

Maybe it is.

Maybe it does.

But does it really exist?

In real life?

I'm not so sure it does.

I mean maybe it does,

but my parents never really had it,

so maybe it's just that

I haven't had a glimpse of it.

Or maybe that's not the point.

Maybe the point is,

is that life and love will never be as easy,

or glamorous or exciting as it is in the movie.

That was quite a little rant

you just went on there.

Yeah, I guess it was.

Are you feeling

any better now?

I mean, do rants really ever

make you feel any better?

It's not their purpose really.

Are you a divorce baby?

A what?

You know,

child of a broken home.

I'm not. Actually,

my parents are still married.

My anger just comes naturally.

Fair enough.

Are yours?

Divorced?

They are.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Guess you could chalk it up

to having too much passion.

So, they had it?

They did.

Didn't do them a lot of good

though.

Kind of cracked

under the pressure of it.

But I mean at least

you've seen it.

I mean my parents just bickered

and were in this marriage

where I never really felt

like they were in love.

They just sort of kept it going I guess

for my brother and me,

which was very noble of them,

But I don't know.

Sometimes I think they ruined

marriage for me.

That's a grand statement.

I know.

Sometimes I'm scared to say it out loud

because I'm afraid my parents will hear me

somewhere across the Miles.

And I don't wanna hurt them like that.

But at the same time I just

don't think marriage works for anyone.

Well, maybe it does,

but it's just not for you.

So, you're saying you think

marriage can work?

No.

I'm saying maybe it's just

not for you.

Maybe you're right.

I mean who am I to say

something as broad as that.

It just seems like our generation's parents

are either divorced or unhappy or both.

I mean, look at you.

Your parents are divorced.

Doesn't that f*** you up?

Well, them being divorced hasn't f***ed me up

quite as much as the actual divorce did.

Well, how so?

Well, I mean we were little

my brother and I.

I was six and he was eight.

So, I don't know how much this

is actually coming from my own memory

or from what I was told

later what happened,

but...

my brother and I were

assets to my dad.

Another thing he could fight

my mom for.

Just to hurt her.

Just to win, you know?

And did he?

Win I mean?

It's nothing you haven't heard from any other tale

of divorce woe.

All our stories are the same.

Half our generation's

f***ed up from divorce.

Or lack of.

And I was just sort of nodding like it was

all so completely understandable.

Wasn't it?

Well, she was all,

"my heart is broken."

And it really f***ing

bothered me.

Why?

The way people talk about

a broken heart is ridiculous,

like it's a tangible object, something you could

hold or sit on a shelf,

could bring your friends over and say,

"look at here what I got on my knickknack shelf.

It's the two pieces

of my broken heart.

Would you like to hold them?"

It just makes it all seem like

bullshit.

Have you ever been in love?

No.

So, you've never had your

heart broken?

Well, no.

Hmm.

What?

Just awfully critical of something

you know nothing about.

Oh, please.

I reserve the right

to be cynical.

How is that possible anyway?

That you've never been in love?

I don't know.

I'm just better at being alone.

Actually, not better

because I've never been bad at together,

because I've never actually been

that together with a person.

You never know.

You might like it.

Do you like it?

I do.

Do tell why.

Well, it's hard to talk about love

without sounding trite.

Well, do it anyway.

Talking about love is like trying to put words

to something you can't define.

You're right.

That was pretty trite.

I mean, here I am, young and naive

in the ways of love

and you have nothing

to throw at me but cliche.

Now you're going to die.

I think maybe we've been

in this room too long.

Maybe.

We should leave this place.

We could.

We will find sustenance.

We will?

Yes, we will.

Hi, there.

How may I burger you?

Pardon?

How may I burger you?

I'm sorry. What?

I didn't write it,

but I'm required to say it.

How's that working out for you?

Look, man, let's not torture

the 20-year-old college student

who's flipping burgers to pay

his parents rent money

because they refuse to let him live

in their basement for free.

Do you really live in your

parent's basement?

Well, then...

I think I'll get the

number one.

I think I'm gonna go

with number four.

No, one.

No, four.

One, no, four.

One.

No, four.

Four.

Four, please.

And can I have some ketchup

with that?

Anything else?

Uh, no.

I think that's about it.

Thank you.

I mean I want to love things.

What?

Just because I've never been in love

doesn't mean I don't want to.

Just not sure I'll ever get to.

What are you talking about?

You've never felt like that?

Like nothing will ever be yours?

You can love something

without it being yours.

No, you can't.

You've been burgered.

I'm sorry, what?

Burgered.

Pardon?

What?

You want me to be anorexic?

Well, you may wanna actually breathe

while you eat.

You might wanna wipe that

ketchup off your chin.

Higher.

Lower.

Lower again.

Higher again.

No, let me get it.

I'll never wash this cheek

again.

Oh, what a wicked web we weave.

What?

The web that we weave.

It's kind of wicked.

Don't you think?

I don't know if I'd use

the word wicked, per se.

Or web for that matter.

But whatever it is, we've

definitely weaved it.

I think you're right.

We did weave it.

Do you know how to weave?

No.

Yeah, me either.

Maybe that's why we're so

unhappy.

Because we can't weave?

Yeah.

I mean we spend all our time

reminiscing about what we've weaved,

but we don't know how to weave.

So, we've really weaved nothing.

Ipso facto we're reminiscing

about nothing.

My God, that's brilliant.

Thank you.

Did you just come up with that?

I did.

Good for you.

Thank you.

Have you ever felt nostalgic for something

without knowing what you're nostalgic for?

Like what?

I just...

I don't know.

Something about interstate exits.

Interstate exits?

Yeah.

My family never really flew

all that often.

We always drove.

Always.

It was this really

well practiced routine.

I'd remember specific exits,

know what gas station we

went to,

and what fast food restaurant

we stopped at.

And for some reason I miss it.

I mean maybe it's just the neon

going straight to my brain,

but I miss this

when I shouldn't really.

It's just some exit

off of some interstate.

I could really be anywhere.

There's a small amount

of romance to that.

Like the idea that everywhere

seems a little bit familiar.

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