JEAN (with varying intensity of emotion): Where did the sea go, that day, the day you swam away from me. Am I the fool for trying to remember? Ha! I remember the fool. It’s been thirty-seven years—thirty-seven years!—since you traipsed in here, into my life. My goddamned life. I’ve been waiting for you my whole goddamned life, Patrick. It’s like a dance, you know, waiting. A dance I know all too damned well. Really, why do I do it? The punishment, the ferocious knives my back so coolly and so often bears, is bearable, if it means you’ll come back….