Conversation Between Future Lovers in the Psych Ward

“It’s all serious shit here, isn’t it?”

“Probably. But how do you mean?”

“Oh you know. ‘Getting better.’ We work on getting better, we talk about getting better, and we follow all the little rules that, if we follow just right, will get us... better.”

“Well, considering the venue.”

“And it doesn’t bug you? That it’s everything, all the time. That it’s what our whole life is now.”

“I don’t really plan on being here my whole life.”

“Really. You have plans?”

“Yeah. I mean, after I get...”

“Better?”

“Out of here.”

“Same thing. And that’s all this place is about.”

“They want us to stay focused, I guess.”

“Right. But there’s staying focused and then there’s... ennui.”

“No. No, I’m pretty sure they took the board games away.”

“Oh god.”

“Sorry.”

“No, but that’s just it. You have a sense a humor! And I had no idea. Because here, anything not about getting better doesn’t matter. Like when we watch TV in the rec room, we just all sit there, quiet. No one says anything, or bitches about what’s on. We don’t even quote from The Simpsons. If whatever you’re watching blows, what do you usually do?”

“I don’t know. Put up with it, or just fuck off back to my room.”

“Exactly.”

“So what? Do you really miss all those scintillating conversations about nothing? Are you suddenly feeling nostalgic to talk about the weather?”

“No... small talk makes me nervous anyway.”

“You’d never know.”

“Sometimes what it leads to is nice, though. As a for instance, ‘What medications are you on?’ has never got anyone fucked.”

“...pass.”

“I wasn’t asking!”

“Right.”

“Well... so what if I was? Maybe.”

“Nothing personal. I mean don’t get me wrong, you really know how to rock the whole hospital gown and robe combo, but...

“You’re not exactly someone to get broken up over.”

“...pretty much.”

“No, look, I just meant...”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not what I’m here for.”

“So what are you here for?”

“To get – oh, fuck you.”

“Now who’s asking?”

“Jesus.”

“Come on. Chill. Part of my point, you know? They put us all together like this, and make it so it’s all we are. Coke addicts, wrist cutters, and pukers.”

“Interesting order, there.”

“Not like outside. In here, it’s important. Out there, it’s just a footnote.”

“Right. Because we’ll never have to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, but then it’ll only be like, I don’t know, serious talk on a fourth date. Or getting to know you pillow talk in bed.”

“I always liked it on the couch.”

“Or in the back seat.”

“Or in the bushes. Once.”

“...or in the hall supply closet?”

“...all right.”

“I was kidding.”

“It’s why I said yes.”

“You really know how to hurt a girl’s feelings.”

“I’m told it gets better.”

“Yeah, well, until then?”

“We could always go bitch about what’s on TV.”