If she could just see me now, she’d be sure to love me, I’ll bet.  I’ll bet she would.  How could she not?  Look at me.  Look at me now.  How I am.  If she could just see me like this – waiting for her, hours early, way before she’s due; watching for any sign or sound of her.  She’d see how eager I was.  She’d see this desperation in my chest.  If she could just see me now, from a distance, without me knowing she’s watching, she’d see me as I really am.  How could she not have some feeling toward me then?  Some – but maybe not.  Maybe that’s – I mean, maybe there’s some repulsion in something like that.  I don’t know how that works exactly but – maybe there’s a – a revulsion of some kind when someone is too eager – too needful, too needy.  I don’t know.  Some – convulsion.  No.  No, that’s not – That’s not it.  That’s not even a word is it?  “Convulse.“ If she could just remember that one time, when was it – that one time back in Knoxville when we were kissing on the train; that long long kiss we had – saying good-bye – and the train suddenly took off from the station but I wasn’t supposed to be going with her; I mean, that’s why we were saying good-bye, thinking we weren’t going to see each other again for a long, long time and we were locked in this long – just kissing and kissing and suddenly the train was moving and there was no way I could get off.  Trees and houses were flashing by.  So they dumped me at the next station, which was miles down the track, and there I was, waiting for hours for the next train back – I mean, if she could have seen me then, just standing there waiting, she’d – she’d be sure to love me.  I mean, how could she not have some – I don’t know.  I don’t know what causes that to happen – that connection – anymore.  If there ever was one.


(Sam Shepard: “Convulsion”, Great Dream of Heaven, 2003)

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