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)