Touched With Fire Page #7

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You're concerned about losing your art

and losing your passion.

Medication's not going to take

your personality away.

It's not going to take your own gift.

It's a fire when it's out of control.

And what medication can do

is to kind of tamp that down a bit

without losing that gift.

It took quite a while

for my moods to kind of get in gear.

I have felt infinitely happier.

I'm more productive.

I'm more able to count on myself

to produce and write.

In every aspect of my life

it's been a godsend.

I thought she was really impressive.

Was cool, right?

She's weak.

She didn't have the strength,

so she gave up.

- What?

- You could see it in her.

She was like...

she wished that she could have

what those artists have

that she writes about.

But she doesn't have the guts.

That's why she writes about them.

You know, do you think

that Poe or Byron or Tchaikovsky,

Melville, Hemingway,

would've backed down

and turned away

from the storm the way she did?

No. They rode the tides.

They rode them, but she didn't.

That's why she writes about them,

because she wants to be like them

in her fantasy, but she can't.

Well, I liked what she had to say

about, you know,

how we can experience full emotion

even more than...

I don't want the full emotion!

- Well, then what do you want?

- I want the mania!

You want the mania?

- Well, it's f***ing crazy.

- Why?

Because of something

that your doctor told you

- or something that your parents told you?

- No.

Because you're not willing

to make any sacrifices.

You say you want a family.

You say you want love.

But you're not willing to give

anything up for it.

We're gonna elevate the baby with it.

It's a gift, Carla.

No, no, it's not a gift.

- And you...

- F***!

What is this?

This, all this about the poetry,

about the beauty of it?

Is this just bullshit?

Let's just f***ing cut it out, Carla.

- Don't. Please, no.

- F***ing cancer.

Yup. Tear it out.

- Stop.

- Why do we wanna infect our baby with this?

- Here. You take it, Carla!

- Don't!

Carla, I'm sorry.

Carla, I'm so sorry.

Carla?

Sh*t.

Hello?

I tried calling you all day.

I didn't mean to push you like that.

I never want to hurt you.

I'm so sorry.

Please.

Have you been drinking?

Marco.

- Oh, hey.

- Surprise.

- Hey, honey.

- Hey.

What's going on?

- Hey, come here. Surprise.

- What's going on?

I wanted to throw us

a surprise baby shower.

I called all of our parents,

and I thought we could have

a surprise baby shower.

Well, you actually said

it was an urgent meeting,

- so that's why we rushed over.

- I know.

I wanted it to be

a surprise for all of us.

Oh, no, it's okay.

So good to see you.

Hi, sweetheart.

You okay?

Oh, yeah.

Everything's good.

- All right.

- It's good.

- Hi.

- Hi.

Good to see you.

Hey, you know, before we...

Hey, wait, hold on, hold on.

- Here you go. Here.

- No, thank you.

- Before we... Marco.

- Here you go.

- Marco, can I talk to you, please?

- Sure, sure.

- Do you guys mind if we just...

- Oh, please, no, that's fine.

No, I mean, now.

Can we talk?

Could we talk now?

Oh, yeah, just give me

one second, okay?

Let me get this open.

Just going to open this up.

- Oh.

- Be careful with that.

Huh?

Aah.

Whoa. Okay.

- Sorry.

- It's okay. It's all right.

- There you go.

- Just a little.

- That's fine.

- Okay? Sure?

- And a little bit.

- Marco.

- What?

- Just... What's going on?

- What?

- You all right?

It's all good.

Here.

- You want some?

- You know what?

Oh, you know what?

You probably shouldn't because of the baby.

I guess a little sip would be okay.

Right?

I'll just pour you some,

and then when I finish making the toast...

you can decide.

Sorry. I forgot something.

Here we go.

Got you a gift.

- Thank you.

- Open it.

Open it, open it, open it.

Carla and I have been looking

for children's books...

and I came across this one

a few days ago,

and it just struck me as perfect,

you know?

You know, when we were

in the hospital together,

when we first met...

we imagined that we were

from another planet

because we don't belong here

on this earth.

And we liked to pretend

that one day we'd get to go back...

to our real planet, our home.

And in this book...

the little prince

is from another planet,

but he's visiting Earth.

And... eventually

he wants to go back home,

but the only way that he can do that

is to die here on Earth.

So, this is a toast...

to a baby that will feel

like he belongs here, on Earth...

on this planet.

And won't have to die to go home.

Carla, I just made a toast.

- Carla.

- It's okay.

It's a toast.

Raise the glass.

I...

Why don't you have a drink, Carla?

Are you still gonna pretend, after all

of this, that you still can't drink?

Because I know.

- Why don't you just say it?

- All right.

Just say it.

Just say it, say it.

Carla had an abortion.

Surprise.

Right?

So, why don't you just say it, Carla?

- Please say it, please.

- All right, I did.

Oh, God.

How could you do that?

Did you forget everything?

No.

I didn't forget anything.

I thought you knew

that that was our miracle,

that that was our gift from God.

I thought you knew that!

- I did. I did!

- I thought you knew that

that was our gift from God!

So what changed?

- Because!

- What changed?

- Because!

- Why?

Because I didn't want it to be raised

by our illness!

So we're a mistake?

We're a mistake?

We're a mistake?

Are we a mistake, Carla?

Are we a mistake?

So that's it.

Hello?

What?

"As the sun and moon

aligned in the sky,"

they illuminated each other's shine.

And the closer to each other they moved,

the brighter they shined,

and the higher the fire

inside of us grew.

As we raced through the days

on that fling,

each footprint we laid

blazed away that piece

of the earth's entire lifetime of beauty

in the brief second it touched our feet,

leaving nothing but ashes beneath us.

"Until we had no ground left to stand on

and nowhere left to flee. "

"And now that we've turned away

from our fire"

to face the days that remained

unburned by the flames,

and learn to gaze at them

through sane eyes

one day at a time.

We can look back at our book

with clear sight

and give it the ending

that we never got the chance to write.

And while I know it's too late

to pick up the ripped-up pages,

I will admit,

I still think of our little prince.

And sometimes I go outside

and look up at the sky

and think about what planet

he might've gone back to after he died.

Then I imagine the three of us

living up there as a family

in another lifetime.

But for now, you have your own life,

and I have mine.

And we have to live them

the way we would have

if we could go back to the day

we conceived our child

and were able to see what

our manic eyes were blind to at the time.

When the sun and moon finally came

as close as they could be

and the fire inside us rose

to its highest peak,

it leaped past

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