I Don't Walk On Water...

Below is a scene from a story I began writing last year. It's from a work-in-progress screenplay called "On the Eve of A Kiss":

INT. ISAIAH’S LIVING ROOM - DAY

Patrick removes his gaze from his LSAT study guide. He watches his best friend pacing, slowly wearing a thin track in his Berber rug - the one he spent five years saving for.

ISAIAH
Married?! I can't believe she's getting married!

Isaiah reaches for the cordless phone on the countertop. He moves his fingers to dial.

PATRICK
Could you put that down for just a second?

ISAIAH
Not now, man. I got a million things to do. I gotta find the venue, try to block the caterer, maybe I can let all the air out of his tires...

PATRICK
I love you.

Isaiah stops. Startled. Frozen. Turning.

ISAIAH
Why...did you say that...like that?

Patrick stands. Blinking. Breathing.

PATRICK
I’m your boy. But you don’t know me half at all. Not even enough to notice me.

ISAIAH
Pat, what are you talking about?

PATRICK
I watch you. You’re like the wind. You blow through woman after woman. And my dating life, well, it sucks. And I look at you. And I find myself thinking: all I want is acknowledgement. Something to show that I’m here. That what I’m feeling is valid. And that I don’t just exist in your life just for your benefit.

Silence.

Silence.

Isaiah clears his throat.

ISAIAH
Look...man. If this is how you choose to live your life then that’s your problem. You know, I wish you would have told me you were like...this, a long time ago. Because...

PATRICK
Because what?

ISAIAH
Well, I don’t know. Maybe I’d have done some things differently.

PATRICK
Like what?

Isaiah puts his hands in his pocket.

PATRICK
Like being friends.

Isaiah is silent.

PATRICK
You should go.

Isaiah puts on his parka. He exits out the front door.