Have you ever felt really, totally terrible only to have someone come along and burst your funk bubble? Like, right when you’re getting a good wallow going? Obviously, the thing to do is roll with it, but I suspect that’s easy to say and harder to do. We like to think of ourselves as the directors of our own realities. In a sense, that’s true. But, much like a director relies on a cast and crew to make a show, we rely on our bodies. Sure, you are your body, and your body is you. Granted. But what you decide to do and what your body is able to do aren’t always the same thing.
Just think about the last time you had trouble sleeping. (And if you’ve never had trouble sleeping, you are dead to me.)
My experience with that situation is basically a raw nerve feeling. Depression feels dead and dull because of the physical and emotional distance I create. Having someone burst in and interrupt the blues with a rainbow fart of some more bubbly emotion is just too damn intense. In the long run, it would probably benefit me more to vag up and go with it. Easier said.
Mira’s running away. Her sudden departure is exactly that reaction. Charley spoiled her funk, and she can’t deal.
MIRA: I'm gonna head back.
CHARLEY: Can I give you a lift?
MIRA: No, thanks. I ran down. Might as well run back.
CHARLEY: Sounds risky.
MIRA: My life.
CHARLEY: You said you didn't have one.
CHARLEY: Wait! I didn't get your name. I'm Charley.
MIRA: Didn't offer, Charley.
CHARLEY: I'd have accepted if you had.