"Friends, there are no friends in Formula One."
"Today a ninety year old man was arrested in Florida for feeding the homeless."
She channel surfs until she reaches CBS.
"We're getting some interference from..."
She's transfixed by the blonde anchorwoman with the big, white smile.
The woman reminds her of a friend she used to have.
On the outside she looks great, but she can sense something is wrong inside.
There are several days of peace in the house.
At night she goes to bed early while he makes pottery in the basement.
Sometimes she thinks he's lying, because it seems ludicrous that he's really making pottery.
But the next day the shelf has extra pieces on it with his signature luminescent violet and blue colors.
She stares at them from a distance as if she's trying to see inside them, to see what he feels while he makes them.
Honestly she thinks the whole weight gain thing has blown over, because it's silly.
Tonight she doesn't know where he is.
She sighs and watches the mediocre, mind-numbing commercials.
Then something across the room catches her eye.
She peers into the darkness and first she sees glasses, followed by him, standing by the ficus.
She acts before she knows what she's doing and flicks off the TV.
The room is completely dark now and she moves like a wild animal up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs she hears him laughing, really laughing.
And she comes back downstairs and turns the living room lights on.
"Baby, you know the only cameras left in the house are yours. Let's drop the act okay."
"First tell me who Richard is."
"Richard is a figment of your imagination."
"I taught you that."
"Well, it's highly effective."
"I don't believe you."
"Eat some ice cream, you'll feel better."
They smile at each other in a way that's a lot like dancing.
It's all a dance.
The acting, the living, the dying, the dancing...
But in the end what she learns is to say "no."
She can say "no" and still dance with him.
Strange but true, she's the one who can't afford to melt.