What Love Is Page #2

how is your wife?

Sal broke up with Charlotte.

Which one's Charlotte?

The black fellow

that used to perform

with Dean Martin

and Sinatra.

Oh, yeah. She was nice.

You two not see eye to eye?

Does Karen wear that

green mud sh*t on her face?

Yes.

How is it you don't take

one look and get the sh*t

scared out of you?

Are you kidding? That's how

she keeps her skin young.

If that's true, I wish

she'd put some on her ass.

I love my wife, but there should

be some vow in the wedding

which covers ass size

after "I do. "

Like an insurance policy.

Brilliant, ass insurance.

Exactly.

There's more of her

for you to love.

That's easy for you to say.

Sara works out five days a week.

What?

W-what'd I say?

What happened?

Well, apparently...

She'll be working

on her arms this evening

when she carries

those two suitcases

out that door any minute.

What? Say "I swear to god. "

No.

It's true.

Three years, and I come home

to a dear John

and those two suitcases

sitting by the front door.

She's on her way over here.

I have no idea

what I'm gonna do.

Dear John.

Dumped on Valentine's day.

Unbelievable.

I'm sick.

I gave Sara three years

of my life. Three good years.

I mean, sure, we had

our problems, everybody does.

But, uh,

it was mostly good times.

That's how you're

supposed to tell.

I mean, nobody's perfect,

but as long as the good times

outweigh the bad,

that's what's supposed

to count, right?

Unless she didn't

see it that way.

Unless I really

didn't make her happy.

Bullshit, Tommy.

You're a man.

Since when is it a man's job

to make a woman happy?

Want this one?

I don't think so.

My point is,

you were happy, right?

For three years,

you were happy.

You know what I'd give for that?

This here, my right arm.

Look at me. I'm a lonely,

drunken, misogynistic a**hole

who goes from one empty

relationship to another,

whose only solace is found

completely obliterated

at the bottom

of a bottle of whiskey.

I can't remember

a single time in my life

when I was happy

for three consecutive days,

let alone three years.

Are you kidding me?

You know whose fault

that is? Mine.

'Cause I am responsible

for my own happiness.

If Sara wasn't happy,

that is her own f***ing problem.

She didn't do the things

that she needed to do

to make sure she was happy.

You're not Dionne Warwick.

You're not a mind reader. You're

not a psychic best friend.

You are tom Reilly,

one of the best people I know.

And if she can't see that,

then she needs to go

to lens crafters.

Why does it hurt

so bad, huh?

Why do I feel like

I wanna die inside?

'Cause you're beautiful, tom.

He's right, you're beautiful.

Not a fag or nothing,

but you're like a real person.

You are a man.

You don't think if I knew Karen

was gonna leave me,

I wouldn't be down here crying,

asking you two geniuses

how I could get her back?

Christ, Sal, too.

You had me until

you brought Sal into it.

Ha-ha. Very funny.

You don't think I got feelings?

You don't think I'm sensitive?

Let me tell you something.

I got more feelings

in my left nut

than you two schoolgirls

put together.

Ooh. Come on now.

Here we go again.

Ooh. I know.

I know what they say about me.

I know what they say

about guys like me.

They say that we're pigs,

right? That we're dogs.

Uh, in your defense,

they don't exclude.

I been married five years,

my wife still says it.

Oh, that's right. They don't

exclude. They say "all. "

"All men are pigs.

All men are dogs.

All men are scum. "

They talk and talk and talk

their little asses off

about what monsters we are.

They don't understand

that they're the very ones

that created the Frankenstein's

they abhor.

Frankenstein was a whore?

Leave my wife out of this.

Laugh all you want,

but I'm serious.

Every womanizer, every player,

every guy juggling three broads

at the same time

is only doing so out of fear.

Fear of being crushed

by a woman.

'Cause one day, back in the day,

they weren't a player.

They liked one girl, just one.

They gave it up to her,

didn't they?

And they gave it up to her.

They gave it up

'cause they were romantics.

And they gave it up to the girl

they loved, and what happened?

They got rocked or they got

crushed or they got destroyed.

They got cheated on

or laughed at or something.

When they're finished

picking up the pieces

of what was once their heart,

know what they said?

They all, every single

one of them, made a vow.

Never to give it up again.

That's right.

Never to give it up again.

Now we're talking about

the real bastards.

Guys that break hearts

occupationally.

Believe it or not, originally,

those cats were

the most beautiful

and the most romantic of all.

You know what happened?

They're the ones that got hurt

worst of all.

'Cause you never get over it.

No, god, no!

You never get over it.

Yes, you recover,

but you never get over it.

And what happened?

When they all recovered...

You know what they all said?

They all said...

"Okay, I see. All right.

If that's how it's gonna be,

I can play that way, too. "

So you see that

we are all responsible

for the cycle

of the vicious circle.

So you're saying you're afraid?

Absolutely.

I ain't never getting

my heart broken again

like I did when I was 16.

But why? Why do people

hurt each other like that?

Why don't they just take care

of each other's feelings?

It's so easy.

Because people are selfish

and they don't care.

I mean, look,

we've all done it, right?

We've all been in that situation

where we're with another woman,

and we know what

we're about to do is wrong.

We know that if we do

this thing,

it's gonna hurt somebody

we care for so badly.

And it'll ruin everything,

I mean, everything.

All the years of work

that we put into it,

in some cases children,

entire families,

and yet we look,

we've got this

young, hot piece of ass

in front of us.

And at that moment,

we just throw everything away,

and we do it anyway.

We f***ing do it anyway.

We know it's gonna kill our wife

or our girlfriend or whatever,

but we do it anyway.

And that, my friends...

Is why we're all so f***ed up.

Because we do it anyway.

We're thinking the grass

is greener somewhere else,

that the better deal

is around the corner

ready to present itself.

And we forget what good friends

we have right here,

and that the grass is pretty

f***ing nice right here.

But we're not kind,

for the most part, are we?

We're not strong,

and we're certainly not wise,

so we throw away people

who are most valuable to us.

We waste them, like we have 'em

to waste. And you know, Sal...

If you keep doing it,

you're gonna wake up one day,

and you're gonna be old.

You're gonna be alone,

or worse,

stuck with some vacuous,

one-eyed stripper in bed

who you can't talk to.

So you wanna put

a bullet in your head,

'cause you missed the couple

truly great ones you once had

and that you, uh, threw away.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote