The scene opens with OUR HERO sitting in a room with a bed.
It’s well-lit, though he is always partly in shadow. It’s his thing…
If I distilled my life down to its essence, it would be…
(a tear wells in his voice. Again, his thing…)
confusion. And suffusion.
I am not as smart, really, as I wish I were. Because if I really were,
I would have found a way to be with you, and to have lived a different life
One with marriage, and children. And health. And real love.
Not one where days are merely counted and observed. Alone.
Inevitably alone, increasingly befuddled by other people.
But perhaps this is the only way this story could ever go.
The only arc this character can travel.