❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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"Do you ever feel like your entire life is falling apart?"
"Sometimes. I...I mean...sort of."
"Sort of?"
"I...I don't get the feeling that my life is falling apart but...I do sometimes get the feeling that it's running away from me a little."
"Running away from you?"
"Yeah. It...it's difficult to explain. It's just that sometimes I get this horrible feeling that I...I just can't keep up. Like...like the world keeps turning but I'm still stuck...barely keeping up."
"..."
"I didn't explain that very well...did I?"
"Not at all. Your words have officially left me confused as hell. My poor brain cells would much appreciate a dumbed down to earth version of what you're trying to say."
"Dumbed...dumbed down to earth?"
"Isabella, it is with my experience of talking to people that I have learnt a very valuable lesson. In order to describe a feeling you have, don't focus on the feeling. No person is the same, no person thinks the same, thus making describing your feelings useless. In order to make a person understand, you need to describe the feelings you felt in context. Like...give an example."
"An..an example?"
"Yup. Describe a time where you felt as if your life was running away from you."
"Well...the last time I felt like that was around two hours ago. I was...I was eating breakfast with my aunt and she was telling me something about how it would probably be best for me to join a college soon. And...and I could see her sitting across the table from me. I could...I could hear what she was saying and I was processing it but it was like...like I wasn't there. I...I don't know how to explain it...it was just like...like I was in the room with her, but I wasn't. I was...I was stuck in time. It was like...like my body hadn't fully moved on yet. Like...like it refused to acknowledge that I had moved on from the incident."
"Incident?"
"Can I call upon the right of selective confession?"
"You may indeed. Members of the jury, we may not proceed to question the subject further. The defendant has called upon her right to remain selective."
"Do you...do you get where I'm coming from, at least?"
"I do, actually. Sometimes I find myself sitting in some of my classes feeling the same way. Like I'm there but I'm...not. Like...like life is running too far ahead of me and I can't keep up."
"...Elliot...can I ask you something?"
"If it's too deep and meaningful I may have to call upon the right of selective confession."
"Why did you...why did you ask me if it felt like my life was falling apart. Do you...do you feel like yours is?"
