Messy

I can always tell when I'm in love

because I am constantly angry and disappointed.

I'm the most miserable when I'm in a relationship,

and the happiest I am when I'm in a relationship is only in the beginning.

Only-- You know, I love the newness.

You know, with all the promise and the potential of it all,

and I can just project everything I want the other person to be.

But, you know, ultimately it all falls to shit and it ends,

and it's all very disappointing.

When I meet someone and I like them,

I carve out a piece of myself

to make room for the other person.

And when they don't quite fill up the space,

uh, in the way in which I want them to

and, you know, if-- When they inevitably

vacate the space...

Oh, my God.

Does the space that I carved out for them, does that ache?

It is fucking brutal how bad it aches.

But when I'm single and I'm, you know,

I'm no longer pining for the last guy

and I'm not yet hooked into some new person,

and I'm just completely tethered to nothing and no one...

Oh, my God, that is the best feeling in the entire world.

That is freedom.

And yet, I can't stop looking for love.

Just, like, looking and hoping and praying to find this all-encompassing,

consuming, big, beautiful love that, let's face it,

I'm probably never gonna find.

I'm jealous. I'm angry. I'm controlling.

I don't trust them. I can't feel their love.

I cannot for the life of me

feel another person's love for me.

You know, and I'm so lonely.

Oh, my God, I am profoundly lonely in relationships.

It's-- It's crazy. And let me tell you,

there is a huge difference between being lonely

when you're next to someone and alone.

I'm-- I'm starting to think that my type in men is, like,

you know, upright with a pulse.

I used to see a therapist. I should probably go back.

He gave me homework. He was like...

He was like, "Stella, okay, Stella,

"stay away from men, all right?

"They distract you, they consume you,

"they disrupt your life.

They will destroy you. Just stop dating. Just stop."

But I can't stop! I can't stop. And I just--

I can't seem to reconcile my never-ending quest for love

and my complete discomfort in relationships.

But just anyway, sorry, long story longer.

In answer to your question, uh, no, I am not dating anyone.

I am completely single, and I just got to New York.

Yeah. Why? Do you have someone for me?

Lady, I am an Uber driver, not an oracle.

Just find a nice guy and settle down.

[traffic ambiance, car horns honking]

- - Hey, Daddy. It's me. Stella.

Uh, it's been a minute.

I don't know if you know this, but I just moved to New York,

and the whole city reminds me of you

because you used to take me here when--

When I was little. Anyway, call me back.

I miss you, I love you.

This is a life's work.

Everything is exactly as it needs to be.

I am enough.

I am grounded in myself.

I say yes to what is.

Ah! Oh, my God. Welcome to New York.

Thank you so much for having me.

When's the last time I saw you? God, it's been forever.

-I don't know, like two years maybe? -Jeez.

-Wait, what are you drinking? -Uh, it's sparkling apple cider.

You on, like, antibiotics or something?

Because I think that's just a myth.

Oh no, I'm just taking a break from drinking.

Oh, like AA, or...?

Not AA. I'm just-- I'm too fun.

I get too fun when I drink, so.

Okay, I love that for you. You got a cocaine plate.

And this one's a ketamine plate.

Okay, well, what happens if people get them mixed up?

I have Narcan in my purse in case anyone ODs.

Oh, great. Well, I have a Tide pen in my purse in case anyone spills.

So we are set.

Did I hear that you were engaged?

I'm not engaged. No, I just got out of something.

-Who told you I was engaged? -What happened? My bad.

Oh, God. It was a nightmare.

Just a total mismatch from the get-go. I didn't listen to my gut.

My insides were eating themselves the entire course of our relationship.

Then I threatened to kill myself.

Got on top of his roof like I was gonna jump off,

and then I punched him in the face at a one-year-old's birthday party.

That's a lot. So, wait, you have to meet my friend Ruby.

-You guys are both from LA. -Oh. Enchanté.

Very nice to meet you.

So, Stella, what do you do?

I'm an unemployed writer.

Oh, blank canvas, we love.

So would I have read anything you've written?

Maybe. I used to write for magazines,

and I sold some scripts that never got made,

but I don't know. Yeah. What do you do?

-I'm an actress. -Okay.

-Oh, do you want one? -No, I don't smoke.

Mm.

-Is that an asthma inhaler? -Oh, no. It's my breath spray.

I'm, like, totally addicted. I love this stuff.

Hey, no smoking indoors, please.

I'm friends with the host. Narc.

What an asshole.

So where are you staying?

I'm house-sitting for a friend in Tudor City.

Oh, where is that? New Jersey?

New Jersey? No, no, no. It's in Manhattan.

It's a very quaint, charming part of town.

Like 42nd and First.

I know you.

I sent you that WeTransfer of that movie you wanted.

WeTransfer tells the sender

when someone downloads what you sent them,

and you never downloaded it.

And I'm just wondering why you asked me to send you a movie,

and I go out of my way to do it,

and I know you never downloaded the WeTransfer,

and now it's expired.

Like, what was the point of it all?

I really don't remember what you're talking about.

Oh, you don't remember what I'm talking about?

He doesn't remember what I'm talking about.

You know what? Fuck this.

This is what's wrong with the world.

-Can I do something? -No, honey,

I'm gonna call you, and I want to see you.

I like you. I'm gonna gift you a tarot reading.

Wait, I thought you were an actress.

I'm a multi-hyphenate, darling.

A multi-hyphenate.

Hello?

Are you okay?

-Bathroom. -Oh, yeah.

Please.

Okay. Let me see.

-I just need it bad. -Oh, shit.

-Are you okay? -Yeah.

-Okay. -Thank you.

Are you good?

-Oopsies. -Mm!

-No. -

I say yes to what is.

Huh?

Oh, nothing.

Ooh!

You're on the narrow edge of a precipice,

but it looks auspicious.

Romance or career?

Romance.

I mean, clarity is of the utmost importance.

Like, what do you want from the perfect paramour?

Oh, my God.

All I'm really looking for in a guy

is someone who's my height or taller.

Funny, handsome, successful,

my best friend in the whole wide world,

isn't on social media but likes all my posts,

adores me but isn't a little bitch pussy,

sends me flowers, has a huge dick,

gets jealous but like in a sexy non-abusive kind of way.

Doesn't hate women, enjoys my mood swings,

loves to go down to me when I'm on my period,

even though I pretend I don't want him to.

Licks my asshole because he wants to devour me,

but does not want to fuck me in the ass.

Isn't a cheater with no living mother, sister, children,

pets, plants, or female friends.

I mean, is that too much to ask for?

Not at all, you queen.

So I'm at the beach with my now ex, and, uh,

you know, I'm self-conscious about all the usual things,

like how do I look in my bathing suit?

Just, like, very much in my head.

And all of a sudden,

this horrible stench wafts by.

Like, this disgusting, putrid, rancid smell

just rolls on through.

And I'm thinking, "What is that? Where's it coming from?"

What?

And all of a sudden, I realize it's me.

This horrible stench is coming from me.

Just some kind of, like, yeast, bacterial, what have you,

just emanating from my vagina, I'm sure of it.

You know, he says nothing, I say nothing,

but we both know it's me.

Anyway, so we-we-we fold up all our towels. We're getting ready to leave.

And just as we're about to walk off,

I look to my right and I see there's a dead,

rotting bird that had been there the whole time.

Don't you see? It wasn't me.