This is the story...
of how I almost lived
my entire adult life...
in a functional coma...
instead of becoming the writer
I always dreamed I'd be...
like Sylvia Plath, only happy.
To be a writer
was my childhood dream...
but like my childhood,
the dream was sweet...
but mostly it was short.
My parents died
in a car accident...
leaving my sister
and me orphans.
My sister acted
like a brat at the funeral...
setting a life-Iong pattern...
of always doing and saying
whatever she felt.
As for me, the next twelve years
were very Ionely...
until...
With this ring,
I thee wed.
His name was Harry Turner,
and we were in love.
I thought everything
was going to be perfect...
and it might have been,
except for one thing...
Harry was already married
to someone else...
his family.
Harry joined
their medical practice...
and although I had his hand
in holy matrimony...
they had his shingle.
Harry became a brilliant
gastroenterologist...
who really knew his way
around an intestine.
See this part here?
To people on the outside...
I'm sure it looked like
we had a happy life together...
and for a while,
I thought we did, too.
I mean, things
weren't exactly...
the way I would
have liked them...
but I learned
to make compromises...
which is how we achieved
a balance in our marriage.
The problem is...
somewhere during
eight years of balancing...
I stopped thinking
of myself as me.
All I was was Harry's wife.
Hi. How are you?
We were one of those couples
who did everything together...
except communicate.
Good night, dear.
You didn't want
to make love, did you?
No, no. That's all right.
Good.
Sex wasn't everything,
but it was...
one of the few things we did
without Harry's family.
So when that began to fade,
I should have said something...
but I didn't know how.
Harry, I thought I'd make...
a nice, big pot roast
for your family tonight...
or turkey.
What do you think?
Uh-huh.
Harry, can you hear me?
Mmm.
Hello?
Come on in, Iris.
Your front door was open.
I'm sorry.
You want some coffee?
Please.
Marjorie? Coffee.
I'll need some milk with that.
With milk.
What's this?
"We love you loads,
Uncle Charles."
The kids made it themselves.
How can they love him loads?
He left for Costa Rica
before they were born.
I think they're just proud
to have an uncle...
that helps so many people.
All doctors help people.
Charles travels all over
the world helping people.
I don't think all doctors
do that, Harry.
Here you go.
Just like you like it...
with one splash.
Low-fat.
There's no problem.
Low-fat.
Anyway, the kids
can't wait to meet him.
I can't, either.
It's so weird having
a brother-in-law...
that I don't even know.
It's weirder having
a brother you don't know.
What's that supposed to mean?
My own brother sends me
one letter in fifteen years.
When you're off winning
the Nobel Peace Prize...
you can't be expected to write
a bunch of letters.
Did Charles win
a Nobel Peace Prize?
He didn't win.
He was just nominated.
Why do you do this?
Do you think he'll like me?
Of course he'll like you.
You're Harry's wife.
Here you go. Low-fat.
Too late. Gotta go.
Got a C-section at 9:00.
And I've got a polyp at 9:30.
Hiya, doll.
How's my sweetheart?
Tired. Haven't seen you
in a while, Nick.
You been busy?
Yeah. Busy, busy, busy.
Having lunch
with my brother today.
He's here.
Good.
How's the fish fry?
I wouldn't eat it, honey.
Hey, Wilbur!
I hear the fish fry
is no good...
but I got a feeling
about the meat loaf.
Your landlord called me today.
You haven't paid your rent
in four months.
Your landlord says
you owe $1,200 back rent.
I know.
And I'm going to go
over to his office...
after this lunch...
and pay him part
of what I owe him...
as a good faith kind of thing.
Good. How much you
going to give him?
$200.
Where are you going
to get the money?
Can you loan me 200 bucks?
No, just until I close this