Break-up Scene 1

"God, you're so difficult, like what the fuck? Why would you say that?"

"I don't know, don't swear at me. Christ."

"Fuck. Fuck! What am I supposed to do now?"

She shrugs. "To be honest, it's not really my problem anymore."

"God, don't be honest again, I don't think I'll cope."

"Can you not go to Jakes or something? It's almost the summer, our lease was almost up anyway, it's really not that bad."

"Could you not have waited, like three weeks until exams were up, before you make me homeless?"

"What, you would have rather I lied about how I felt for the sake of a lease?"

"Yes, Angela, I would have. Then I could have gone straight home and wallowed, and not have to see you every day. And I wouldn't be fucking homeless."

"Well, you can still live here if you really want."

"Not I can't. Fuck! In our one bedroom flat, do you think that's a good idea? How are we meant to grieve the ending of our bloody three-year-long relationship when we're all up in each other's hair?"

"You could sleep on the foot-on?"

"What, in the fucking kitchen?"

"Stop swearing at me. I'm trying to be helpful."

"Well you could have helped by keeping your feelings to yourself for another month. Like am I really that awful that you couldn't have done another month?"

"It's not about you. I just wanted to be honest, I'm sorry if the technicalities don't quite work, but I just want us both to be happy."

"I was happy Angela, I was having a great time. I thought we were doing great."

"And this is the problem. You refuse to ever acknowledge that something is wrong because you would rather live your life comfortable and unhappy than have the slightest inconvenience. It's rough man, and I'm sick of it. I amn't happy with you, and you don't love me, so why do we still go through the motions? We're twenty, for Christ's sake. What do you actually want from me, other than sex and someone to drink with? We're never going to get married, or have kids, so why are we wasting all this time when we could be single and having fun and sex and drinking without arguing about toilet paper and shit."

"Well when we got together at fucking high school, I didn't really think I'd have to answer all these questions until I was like thirty. What does it matter if you can't see us getting married? Can we not just have fun?"

"But. I. Am. Not. Having. Fun."

"What the fuck, man. All this honesty is bumming me out."

"Stop trying to be funny. I don't find you funny and I want you to move out."

"Ah, so this conversation is over then, is it? Three years of my life, only to be kicked out for not wanting to be married at twenty."

"It's not about fucking marriage. It's about you not caring whether you love me or not, because it's easier for you to stay here."

"Well I'm finding it very stressful to stay here at the minute, actually."

"Fuck's sake, can you not go to Jake's or something? I've had enough of your shit, and I have a headache."

"Well who's going to press that hippie-ass pressure point on your back when I'm not around?"

"Ugh, shut up. Just go, please. This is exhausting, we can talk about it later."

"I'm not paying rent for here anymore."

"I don't care, get out please."

"Have my babies."

"Fuck off!"