For in that sleep of death what dreams may come...
  1. Prelude: Rusalka O Silver Moon
  2. Imagine, if you will, a silver moon, low in the sky, bigger and brighter than any you've seen before. Think of hope, think of love, think of the enduring faith we all have that somewhere in the world there is somebody for us.
  3. .
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  4. Meet Sam. She lives alone. Most nights, before bed, she talks to herself about little things: "so you want to do this the hard way" (about a dish that needed a good scrub); "that's what mom said" (about eating leftovers...waste not blah blah).
  5. Most nights, she sleeps on her side. Her eyes on the pillow that cradled Ben, before that Tim, before that doesn't really matter. Tonight she is on her back, head turned toward the window. The moonlight is keeping her awake, making her consider her life and what little it has left to offer.
  6. It's a cliche, but there's no space between compromise and love, at least not for her.
  7. "I'm going to die alone," she says aloud. She has never given that thought voice before, and now it hovers above her in the darkness and she weeps under its weight.
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  9. John believes in love. He believes there is someone so perfect, so extraordinary, so to make him perfect, to complete him. He hasn't read Plato, but if he had he'd say that's it, that's what I think too.
  10. Every night he takes his faith in love and tries to fuck a girl. If he finds success, he returns for a second go around and on occasion he plays "lover" and goes for walks in the park, etc. He'll say, "I love you too." But deep down, he wonders, "Will I ever let myself go?"
  11. He has a few trite lines about love. Stock stuff: a line from a song or movie (does it matter which one?). But they are delivered in the service of managing her-- she'll like it when I say this; this will make her happy; this will turn her on...John has no emotional compass in a sea of bad love.
  12. Tonight, John has run out of girls. There isn't a girl in the city between 28 - 39 he hasn't swiped left or right, chatted and deleted, chatted and met and left after one drink; chatted and slept with and left three dates later. There's nobody left. He is finally alone.
  13. And surprise surprise, John hates himself. He hates being alone with the stock lines and the dumb self serving philosophy. He hates his face in the mirror. He hates thinking about the mistruths he says about himself.
  14. "I hate you," he says, out loud. It scares him to voice this. He looks around, nervously laughing. Then he smiles. This is how crazy starts. There's a flash, an image that's fatter lonelier crazier than might actually be, but still it's a knife to the heart.
  15. Chapter III