Love Happens Page #4

had a really bad couple of days, okay?

Would you like to

talk to me about it?

No, I don't.

Because you weren't this mad the

last time I forgot to cauterize.

Tyler.

And some groupie.

Again?

Yeah.

No. No!

I know. It's crazy.

I can't believe it.

God, you know what? No, I can

believe it. I can totally believe it.

Excuse me. What does that

mean? What does that mean?

It's so clear to me.

Oh.

It means that you

manage to choose guys

that guarantee

that at some point,

we are going to be

standing here

having this same

conversation again.

And you're gonna be shocked at the

outcome of the relationship again.

But most of all,

I just hate seeing you get so

disappointed and hurt every single time.

Am I being too harsh?

Yes. No.

Yeah.

Yeah. Okay, I'm gonna...

Cauterize.

Yeah.

It was because they were

feeling pain and resentment.

I want you to re-read

Chapter 12, okay?

The cigarettes are more than just

a habit. They're a denial mechanism.

Oh.

Okay?

"Mental health

begins with..."

"Physical health." Okay.

And how you always say it's

important to remember the person,

how they lived,

not how they died?

Well, my husband loved my

oatmeal-raisin cookies so much.

So, I took his ashes and...

Meet my Stanley.

Don't those

look delicious?

I'll see you in workshop.

Oh, thank him.

...event next week

in the Junior Ballroom.

But then Julie was wondering

if we could get the side...

Excuse me. ...arrangements. Excuse...

Oh, my God. Oh, my God,

there's been a healing.

You like making

a fool of people,

pretending

to be Helen Keller?

U h, well, technically,

she was blind also, so...

Okay. Will you

excuse us for a second?

Thank you.

See, I happen to know

a thing or two about people.

You get approached a lot.

Probably have since the day you

strapped on your first training bra.

But you're smart and you're

creative and you're caring and deep.

But how come the guys only

see the package it comes in?

Sure, you're flattered, but

ultimately, ultimately, it's tiresome

because it has nothing to do

with you. You were born that way.

You can't take credit for it.

Your insides, though. That's yours.

That's what you want someone

to truly see, even a stranger.

Ergo, you fake a handicap

rather than deign to have a

conversation with a fellow human being.

You prefer sign language?

Fine.

Smooth. Real smooth.

Ha!

Excuse me.

This is the men's room.

You know what?

Excuse me.

What did you have in mind?

Some sweet,

romantic courtship

in the bar

over some warm peanuts

before we consummate our love in

the glow of Spectravision porn?

You...

God, I'm so sorry your little

ego took such a bruising.

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