Soundtrack: One---Harry Nilsson
[via FoxyTunes / Harry Nilsson]
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"Bill, I didn't realize it had gotten that bad for you. I mean... well, I'd heard that your courses this fall hadn't gone all that well, but I... I guess I thought the people I'd heard it from were wrong... or that you'd just had a difficult bunch of students. But, if what you say about your emotional state is right, I can see why your courses might have suffered."
Bill nodded, sadly. "Yeah, they did. And, I’m none too pleased with my plans for my courses this spring either. My heart just isn’t in them. I mean, it's hard to get up the psychic energy to challenge these kids' ideological homogeneity and political apathy when I'm feeling so hopeless myself."
This conversation was really bumming Bill out. He felt himself descending into a deep funk, far deeper than Pat could possibly imagine. It went way beyond his courses and their shortcomings. It went way beyond his waning political energy. It was core. And he knew he had to talk about it to someone other than his fucking therapist who did little more than repeat Bill's morose utterances back to him and who seemed bored by Bill's angst, perking up only when he related his latest disgusting sexual escapades.
Bill decided to try talking to Pat about the deeper issues. He figured it couldn't hurt. At worst, it would so revolt Pat that she'd withdraw from him and save him from stepping over the line that he felt himself now racing toward at practically full gallop, that boundary line that once crossed could never be uncrossed: a sexual relationship between a professor and a student.
"My courses aren't all that have suffered, Pat.” He blurted out. “My relationships with friends have dropped off to nothing. Other than my classes, office hours and faculty meetings, I barely leave the house. And what do I do here? You probably won't believe it. I spend most of my time watching sports on TV and I don't mean just the World Series like I always have, but college and professional football and basketball, even wrestling and roller derby for Chrissakes. And I eat almost nothing. I must have lost 20 pounds since June."
"I have noticed that you're a lot thinner, but I guess I thought that was deliberate. It looks pretty good on you, actually." Pat chuckled at the compliment she'd offered Bill.
Bill ignored Pat's comment. He was deep into it now, deep into the shit, the really stinky, shameful part. "And, probably worst of all, I've been a real asshole to a number of people."
"Oh?" Pat asked, "Like whom? How so?"
Bill withdrew his hands from Pat's and stared at them, as he held them out in front of him. He felt as though they were covered in slimy, stinking shit...his own. "Pat, this is really hard for me to speak about. I'm so ashamed!"
Pat drew his hands back into hers and placed them on her lap. "Try, Bill. Maybe it'll help. Don't worry about what you think I might think. No matter what you've done, I have the utmost respect for you, and I think I understand enough about what you've been going through this year to imagine the worst... and still forgive you. Maybe, you need to get it off your chest, so you can forgive yourself."
Bill was overwhelmed by Pat's apparently complete and unconditional caring for him. She was a truly remarkable woman and he... he was deeply afraid that he might be falling in love with her. The very thought of this shook his moral fabric. Well, maybe he'd really test the depth of her caring and understanding by telling her about his relationships with women these past few months. These sexploits disgusted him and he felt sure they'd disgust her as well which would drive Pat away from him and, so save him from himself, from the feelings he was having about her at this very moment. These feelings of love and... desire, of growing intimacy and… sexual longing, of compassion... and passion.
"Pat, listen. I need to tell you about my behavior over the past six months… I…er…well, I’ve been basically trying to obliterate myself in an orgy of sex and... and... drugs.”
Bill stopped himself. He had intended to say more, to go into the gory details, but he just couldn’t do it. It was too vile and filthy to tell Pat; if he did, she would hate him and he didn’t think he could bear that.
He stared down at the floor. He was too ashamed to look at Pat. He didn't think he could bear to see her face. But, no matter how Pat looked at him or what she said, it would come to the same thing because he disapproved of himself so deeply and because he could not forgive himself.
Now he heard Pat's voice coming toward him, as if across a wide chasm. "That sounds pretty awful, Bill and it looks like you know it better than anyone."
She hesitated before going on. "But... it all happened and that can't be changed. All you can do now is try to figure out why... or maybe it isn't even a matter of knowing why. Maybe what you need is just to exorcise whatever demons are haunting you. I have no idea what they might be. You may have an inkling, but my guess is you need some really competent professional help to get at the root of your behavior and your angst."
Bill heard Pat's words, but his mind was elsewhere, so he couldn't make any sense out of what she was saying. Instead, staring straight down at the floor, Bill's mind was filled with sexual images of Pat and him, their bodies — black and white —entwined, making love passionately, lovingly, longingly.
Then he felt it. Pat had kissed him gently on the forehead. He felt a comforting warmth radiating out across his skull from the spot her lips had touched. The warmth gradually intensified as it moved through his body, becoming at first a dull, but persistent glow that spread slowly across his face, then turning into a burning sensation in his chest, followed by a streak of fire that shot down his spine. At the same time, he became aware of a tingling in his fingers and a slight quiver in his arms. His legs began to tremble, building in intensity to the point of actually shaking, almost violently, until finally a huge charge of energy exploded in his genitals. He cried out, as he climaxed, his voice powerful and loud, echoing through the house back to him.
Slowly the explosion subsided. Bill sighed deeply and reached out to Pat... but felt nothing. He looked up. There was no one there. Pat had left. Bill was devastated. He now realized that he wanted her desperately, no matter what the consequences, and yet he wondered if what he'd just told her had driven her away from him for good.
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January 20, 1969: Bill, Scene 1 (To Come)
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New Year's Eve 1968: Bill, Scene 10 "1968: The Death of Hope"
Go to a related scene
New Year's Eve 1968: Pat, Scene 10 "Forgiveness"
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