Borderline

I have no boundaries.

As my shrink says.

I have a problem with limits.

l can't distinguish outside from inside.

My skin is inside out.

My insides are all tied up.

l feel like everyone can see into me.

I'm transparent.

So transparent I have to scream so that people see me.

This is Tcheky.

My lit professor.

I was insanely in love with him.

Even though he's 23 years and two months older than me,

French,

married to the hilt and never there for me.

Besides,

who's ever been there for me?

I have no knack for love.

But I'm fed up with getting only crumbs.

I want a big chocolate cake all to myself.

That's why I decided to tell you my story.

Kiki, Christ!

What are you doing?

Making a fool of yourself again!

I'll sell you to a bad man

who'll send you into white slavery!

Kiki!

If you don't behave,

a maniac will come and cut you into little pieces

and cook you like a steak.

Is that what you want?

Anyway...

Is that what you want?

Anyway...

WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR WIFE?

WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR WIFE FOR ME?

LOVE MAKES ME STUPID

Sometimes I feel like

sex

reduces me to a state of slavery.

lt kills my freedom.

lt kills me.

My problem is,

I'd sleep with anybody.

Men, women, short, tall, thin, obese... You name it.

I don't get it.

I love my wife and kids, but...

I'm proud of myself.

I haven't visited porn sites in 12 days.

Once,

it's not funny, I found myself with a...

And...

this self-loathing makes me fuck even more.

My head and my dick...

all the same thing.

I'm sorry.

It's the first time I've talked about it.

I called my sponsor

and I prayed.

I'll stick with it.

But he loved me so much.

His eyes shone so brightly when he looked at me.

He'd been pursuing me for months. I felt like I was...

needed.

When a man makes me feel important,

l spread my legs.

l thought that loving meant spreading my legs to infinity,

spreading my legs

to see the sky, my little patch of heaven.

l spread my legs to forget who I was, forget the rejection.

l spread my legs to shine like a little star.

Kiki?

Kiki Labrèche?

Eric!

It's so weird seeing you. I thought of you yesterday!

How long's it been?

Ten years.

Ten years the day after tomorrow. Your birthday's the 11th...

- You remember my birthday? - Sure.

And not just that.

Yeah, right.

You have an elephant's memory.

And you still have no inhibitions.

Yeah, I always played the clown, right?

Is he yours?

You hitched?

Yeah, I'm married, two kids. This is my oldest.

And you?

I know you're a journalist.

Well, I have to earn a living.

And your book? Did you ever write it?

No, I haven't written it yet.

Well, the first chapter, yes.

I'm doing my MA now, so I have to finish it.

I'm sorry.

l couldn't hold back.

I'm sorry.

It's been so long since I've...

It doesn't matter. It's OK.

Kiki?

Yes, Eric.

You didn't kiss me even once.

Kiki, I'm so glad to see you.

Your grandma keeps falling down.

It's lucky I needed coffee. You have to look after her.

- She falls? - Right onto the floor.

OK, I'll check on her.

Good, do that. But for real this time.

Gran?

It's Kiki.

Yeah, I'm in here.

Is it true you just fell?

Look, Gran, do you fall often?

'Cause Tina just told me.

She's goddamn nuts.

We'll go to hospital to see what's wrong.

Are you sick, Kiki?

I ain't going to no hospital. They're all Nazis!

You go to hospital, they do tests on you.

Next thing you know,

you're dead.

Come on, Gran.

Gimme a break!

Wanna get rid of me?

Anyway...

Have you gone to see your mom? She's so alone.

And as for Tina, she can talk.

The cops came to arrest her man. Seems he beat her.

I know he did 'cause I heard everything.

Goddamn men are all the same.

TRUE OR FALSE?

Homer is the greatest poet of...

True!

Tell Pierre Marcotte I love you, Kiki.

So handsome.

Just look.

You're bugging me!

Are you listening?

Sure.

Anyway...

Have you eaten, Claude Viau?

What is that?

You're not making a blanket out of your old shower curtain?

Did I ask your two cents?

C'mon, Claude Viau.

I'll give you a nice biscuit.

Yes?

Why, it's my little tornado. So, what's new?

What's wrong?

I didn't write.

That's OK, next week.

I can't write.

I don't know how to write anymore.

And even less, what to write.

Plus my grandmother keeps falling.

My roommate screws 24/7.

Speaking of screwing, when can you fit me in?

This week's complicated, my wife's off work.

But about your novel, Chapter One was great. Keep at it.

Write with your guts, tap into your pain.

Keep using your family for inspiration.

Your grandma's falling is a sign!

My family!

My childhood's stuck in my throat like a potato chip.

My family! Even my shrink's fed up.

Besides, Tcheky, if I write about my life, I'll have to

write about you.

If I play in the field, get down from my gynaecological tree...

Well, you're the field.

Wait, you can't write about me, Kiki, it's...

The department's already talking. It would cause problems.

Promise not to.

Maybe I should change my thesis advisor.

Maybe sleeping with you gives me writer's block.

You know,

I thought that.

Seriously, maybe it would be best.

Does your door lock?

Yeah, why?

Kiki...

No.

Would you find me more exciting

if I weren't your student?

C'mon, Kiki. Not here. Look...

Or just a quickie.

Fyodor!

My little Fyodor!

You're not going to call him Fyodor! Caroline!

I won't be the godmother of Fyodor Girard.

I've never heard of a Fyodor.

Dostoevsky... doesn't ring a bell?

The Idiot?

Excuse me, I'll get your doctor.

Last week you called him Réjean. That has more charm.

Would you prefer Tcheky?

Look, Caro, I know you don't like him, but...

he's my literary therapist.

Oh boy!

It's been a year, I've stopped sleeping around.

I hardly see my shrink.