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The Short Play Brigade

Broken Heart

(BOY1 stands center stage.  BOY2 stands right, GIRL1 stands left.)

BOY1: I have a theory about broken hearts.  My theory is that your heart can only be broken once.
BOY2: I wanted you to know, I'm seeing someone else.
BOY1: Before it happens the first time...
BOY2: I'm not ready for this kind of commitment.
BOY1: ....you live in this naïve wonderful world, where there are always doves flying around in the background, and every fuck is a great fuck.
BOY2: Well, it's more than that actually.  I've discovered you're an incredibly shallow human being, and every minute I spend with you sucks a little more of my life away.
BOY1: You go from day to day, night to night, meal to meal, trip to the mall to trip to the mall, bathed in this weird sort of Hi-Pro glow, everything seems like it's on track, there may be problems on the horizon but certainly your love will endure, your love will conquer, and things will work out right.
BOY2: Just don't call me anymore.  Keep the CDs.  Since deciding to leave you, my self-esteem has improved dramatically and I got a great new high-paying job.
BOY1: Then something happens.  You get, you get caught off guard.  You're not paying attention, and something slips when you aren't looking.  And suddenly you're standing there with your entrails in your hand as your lover walks out the door, kicking the dog on the way out just for good measure.
BOY2: I've always hated that fucking dog.
BOY1: In that moment, that moment when the dog whimpers and your heart shatters into a trillion itty bitty pieces, your innocence is forever lost.  Any vestiges of childhood enthusiasm you had left in you are sucked out your nostrils, and you're left there alone, a hollow, desperate, gaping wound waiting for cauterization.  You can go along like that for weeks, months, years if you're a real loser.  Eventually, of course, your heart will heal.  But it will never be the same.
BOY2: Hey, wow, it's been so long, what have you been up to?
BOY1: Hey, how fast can you fuck off?
(BOY2, chagrined, exits.)
BOY1: The good news is that, according to my theory, your heart can only break once.
GIRL1: I think I should move in.
BOY1: From that point on, you will approach every romantic relationship you ever experience from the perspective of someone who has died, and has been buried in a mound of toxic feces.
GIRL1: You're spending too much time with your other friends.  I demand more.
BOY1: You will appreciate every fleeting moment of apparent happiness for what it is, a shimmering moment that will undoubtedly pass before the time it takes you to flip to another cable channel.
GIRL1: For our relationship to be truly satisfying, you will need to give up your pathetic sexual hang-ups and pleasure me in a way you've never thought to do before.
BOY1: Hey, will you chill out for a few fucking minutes already?
GIRL1: That's it, you piece of shit, I'm out of here.
(GIRL1 exits.  GIRL2 is now stage right.)
GIRL2: Would it be too much trouble...
BOY1: No, no, it's no trouble.
GIRL2: Perhaps you should try antidepressants.
BOY1: Eventually you may stumble across another relationship of a depth that may even far surpass the relationship that broke your heart in the first place.
GIRL2: I love you in more ways than I can count.
BOY1: You'll find that beating within your chest is a strong, powerful muscle, having lived through the TET Offensive of the heart.  The flashbacks and nightmares may never go away, but you will find yourself so much more satisfied than you ever were before.
GIRL2: Life will go on with or without us.  Let's stay home tonight.
BOY1: My theory is that your heart can only be broken once.
GIRL2: I won't leave you.
BOY1: That's my theory.
GIRL2: It may be hard, but I'm staying.
BOY1: You'll never be caught off guard again.
GIRL2: Marriage, children...
BOY1: Love, happiness...
GIRL2: What are you afraid of?
BOY1: I fear nothing.  I am impervious to pain.  My heart is indestructible.  As long as you stay here.



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