This Is The Monologue I wrote And performed A while Back In December 2010 At Under The Radar

 (There’s a lady, all dressed up in the latest fashion. prim and prissy. Snobbish and pretentious. What we see is her disintegration to a dependent and strangely miserable being)

She comes in the room with a big smile on her face. Her, self assured pace and swishing cloth give her a blissful and majestic look. Almost instantly she starts making conversation with the other stranger in the room.

Well hello there, how are you?...(big toothy grin).its such a bright morning today!.Bright, sunny mornings make me so happy__ you know why?(as if it’s a great secret), because he loves it…(a little hushed…something like shy)…(reminiscing)he’s always whistling a tune in the morning__ for the life of me I cannot ever figure out the song but oh! How he sings it__ I tell you, it puts the“nightingales” to shame.

(Pause)

oh I’m so stupid!...going on and on like that about my husband. I’m really sorry. You wouldn’t even know him. And I'm..so foolish…though you would love him too if you knew him. He’s a miracle. From god to the world. And he adddoress me.:)(smile again)

He loves me to drink coffee…and he loves me to wear cashmere…the real expensive kind. Of course I tell him I don’t need this but he…just loves me.

We sit on the balcony sometimes and drink coffee. its heaven!.(a far away look on her face).there are flowers around. I wear red and he cant pull his eyes off me…just tells me…I look like the flower his mum told him never to pluck(kind of a sly grin).

He looks at me and sweeps me off my feet every time.(tone: assured)

It smells of freshly baked muffins (those are the ones he loves) and it smells of the Swedish cologne that he loves, and it smells of lilies and the cigar and and something Elsa…something that’s not mine, nor his…something bad..:-((a knowing-denying expression, horror and grief and suspicion)

Of course he comes home late at nights…he has to work (defensively).i cant be the focal point of all his affections. but I make sure I wait for him every night! Sometimes he brings me chocolates, he loves the peanut and almond ones…though I am a little allergic to almonds but you know, I just pick out the almonds from it.. And that’s okay, because you’ve gotta make sacrifices in a relationship. That’s the key to a successful relationship (not believing her own self)…and sometimes he comes home drunk…but that’s okay. we just put him to bed then…(uncomfortable smiles)

I’m not insecure…he loves me. I love him. its simple. its a simple rule. of course he has girl friends. he works with them. talks to them…sometimes he takes them out for dinner…(droopy)..but I don’t mind that…as long as he comes back to me, I don’t care.(tears)

and I shiver now when I tell you this. I don’t want to. but I know he doesn’t love me. Every night I go to sleep knowing this but every morning I wake up and tell myself other wise.

(Desperate)I want him to cry. And if he cry’s for her, I want to wipe away his tears.

(a little aggressive)I want him to fight me!. He is so numb. I don’t want to be used like that but there has to be something in our relationship. Right?. I mean, its working (smiles hopefully)all these years ..and it’s working!

When I look at a crowd, I want to see his face. I want to see the proud look he gives people. But not me..

I tell my best friend, hey look here! HE LOVES ME! HES MINE! HE IS MY MEAT!

…(dark silent raging mood)…he is cruel. He comes home every night. he uses me. he wakes up in the morning, has a smile on his face and then walks off to the door.

He uses me. Uses me. And I feel fine. I want him to use me (disgust on her face).. to drain my being. Every drop. He’s eating my being! And I love it! (Hysterical)

When he steps out the door he doesn’t look back, he doesn’t wave. He won’t even wink..(Smiles to herself)

Maybe I’m not good enough for him…you know. Maybe I’m just too clingy...he needs his space. he needs to have time for all these people. He has many friends. And they love and respect him…so you see he needs his own time. And then I think that only if…just if.. i had been someone Elsa…someone different…someone rich and high class and..and if I had that real aristocratic breeding. you know….maybe if I knew how to make better coffee or pick better clothes and be the leading type. you know…if I knew how to write a symphony and knew how to keep the right figure for him…he loathes fat women..(Quite knowledgeably).. But me .. I just have a tendency to gain weight (smiling embarrassingly)

I don’t know what makes people laugh or cry. I’m clueless to that. All I want to do is fill up with rage and anger for all these years..(boiling up)i want to shout at him, howl and scratch his sly eyes out and wipe away that mesmerizing, wicked grin off his face…I don’t want to love him anymore…I don’t! But what’s worst is knowing you can’t help it!

…and I can’t breathe…I open up the windows and there’s so much air in the room. But I still cant breathe. He’s killing me…he’s burning me up and lighting me to ash…drop by drop. He is taking my soul.. He’s clobbering me to death…oh god! Please…but he loves me…I love him.. I know he does..(Chokes, breathless etc)

(Almost instantly)oh my…I’ve gotta go! its almost time and oh I’m going to be late.. He doesn’t like it when I’m late. He gets cranky(smiles shyly)…look at me. being so foolish .wasting my time and yours. oh, I really am sorry. Ha!(all fixed up), gotta go now!

toodles!:)