Two People Loving The Other

A harrowing dialogue on emotional exhaustion, the aching desperation to fix what can't be fixed, and
the gut-wrenching
final act of love—walking away to preserve what's left of yourself, this preservation of exactly what is loved by the other.
A meditation on the suffocating cycle of love, dependency, and the painful necessity of letting go.

The Final Act of Utmost Love


A skewed semi-narrative depiction of emotional interdependence, resignation, and an inevitable departure,
‍Two People Loving The Other expresses the liminal space entered upon realizing a relationship has reached its expiration date. To love the broken wheel as Sisyphus had fallen in love with his rock, one must imagine he is happy. Through sparse dialogue and a palpable sense of emotional distance, each partner must sacrifice their romantic love for the wellbeing of their independent futures. To make diamond of the rock. The lyrics paint a picture of a relationship cycling with one person whom feels safe in drama and conflict, and the other whom is exhausting themselves trying to fix the unfixable- and validate their love for the other.

The two characters—one the “Issue Creator," and the other the “Fixer"—explores themes of self-sacrifice, emotional exhaustion, and the frustration of trying to hold onto something that is no longer working, marked by an inevitable emotional detachment and the ambivalent tension of unresolved love.
At its core, the piece reflects the painful, selfless act of letting go, not out of anger or selfishness, but out of love—because the Fixer understands that the Issue Creator must find their own path to healing and happiness.

ACT
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The Issue Creator sits alone in the dimly lit kitchen, waiting for their lovers arrival with nothing more than an ask for help with an unnamed problem.
The request, "Please, please, please help me fix this problem," reflects a desperate need for validation and attention. It speaks to the Issue Creator's cycle of emotional turmoil—creating problems in the hope that someone will come to their rescue, to show love through effort and sacrifice.
The Fixer partner responds without hesitation of their love, simply, "Absolutely," signaling the willingness to engage in the emotional labor of trying to resolve the issue.
However, as the conversation unfolds, we sense a growing disconnect between the two.
The mundane sound of a neighbor's footsteps, silent enough for the jingle of keys, and the quiet hum of a car whooshing outside punctuate the theme of isolation within the relationship, as if the world outside spins indifferent to the tense domestic turmoil within. As intimate the two are in their home, the emotional distance defines their proximity.
The Fixer does indeed resolve the issue—"Yes, it's fixed"—but there is a coldness in the response, laying next like ice from the Issue Creator
“I don't need you anymore,” being not a statement of empowerment but a subtle acknowledgment of their realization that the emotional work they've invested is no longer sustainable or satisfactory, ultimately both realizing that no resolution will bring lasting happiness for themselves or their lover.
The Fixer's exit is inevitable.
The decision to leave is not driven by malice, but by a weary understanding that staying in this cycle of emotional labor only deepens the unhealthy pattern. The Fixer sees that their presence is no longer meaningful to the Issue Creator, who will always need more to fill the emotional void, yet can never seem to grow or learn from the process.

The Fixer knows they have nothing more to give with a statement, "I'm leaving," as a quiet surrender, forcefully the bigger person- for betterment of them both- a kind recognition in a relationship that has outlived its purpose.
In response, the Issue Creator pleads, "Wait, I'll make another," as if to insist that more effort—more problems—will fix things.  This reflects their desperate attempt to cling to the cycle of emotional dependence—continually needing fixing without ever seeking to change. Though the Fixer knows better. "No, you won't," they assert, understanding that no matter how much they give, nothing done will ever fill the deep void that pains their lover, for someone who is unwilling to change.
The Fixer's love has been a constant attempt to resolve someone else's emotional turmoil, but this has only led to more pain, more unmet needs, and more emotional exhaustion. The selfless act of leaving is a final, loving gesture—an acknowledgment that the Issue Creator's path to happiness lies outside the Fixer's capacity to help.
In this heartbreaking realization, the Issue Creator asks,
"Why would you fix anything?" This response is just a vulnerable ask to the Fixer as to why they are not loved in their turmoil, in their cycle, and in the broken state that the issue creator exists. While terse, it communicates the underlying truth: there is no fixing what is beyond repair.
The Fixer feeds into the Issue Creator's sense of abandonment by validating their feelings of hurt and rejection, not to appease them, but to reflect the emotional reality that the Issue Creator cannot accept.
The Issue Creator's need for constant problems is not a genuine desire for resolution but a deep cry for their lovers presence—an attempt to maintain control over the relationship's dynamic by creating chaos- to feel safe- in which the Fixer has always soothed at energetic expense of them both.
The Fixer's resignation is not about abandoning love; it is about recognizing that the love they have is not enough to overcome the deep-rooted patterns of emotional immaturity in their partner.
As heartbreaking softness for the Fixer, he knows the ultimate fix of their love is parting.
The crux of the piece lies in the Fixer's final intensified words: "Because I only care about myself."
As to scare off their partner, to bare their teeth against what was love.
This statement is layered with complexity.
On one hand, it appears selfish, but in the context of the relationship, it is a profound act of self-preservation and sacrifice for the growth of the Issue Creator.
The Fixer has given endlessly, only to realize that their selflessness has been enabling the Issue Creator's inability to grow. By choosing to leave, the Fixer is finally prioritizing their own emotional health, acknowledging this will force the same for their partner.
The Fixer understands that the best way to truly help their partner is to stop "fixing" them, to stop enabling the cycles of dysfunction.
The song ends in a painful but necessary silence. There is no resolution, no final words of comfort. The Fixer, though full of love, is resolute in their decision to leave.
The finality of the departure is underscored by the quiet surrender to the understanding that the Issue Creator is incapable of the self-awareness required to grow and heal.
The relationship, once filled with love, now stands as a monument to what was, and the Fixer leaves not in anger but in quiet sorrow.
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The Issue Creator, unable to process the Fixer's departure, responds in melodic change with confusion, frustration—and speechlessness.
There is no closure for the Issue Creator, only more questions and resentment.
However for the Fixer, this is the final, selfless goodbye—a recognition that loving the other person any longer will only trap them both in an endless loop of emotional exhaustion, one the Issue Creator may never fully understand.

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It is the painful realization that sometimes the most loving thing you can do is let go.
"Two People Loving Each Other" exists as a poignant exploration of the complexities of love, sacrifice, and personal growth.

lyrics

Two people
‍
One comes home
one sits in the kitchen
dim light
one says to the other
‍
Please
please
please
help me fix this problem
‍
The other says
Absolutely
‍
You will?
‍
A neighbors footsteps are heard passing by the front door
A jingle of the keys
A pause
‍
Yes
‍
It's fixed
‍
I know
‍
I don't need you anymore
‍
Silence in the hallway
The sound of a car whooshing by
I'm leaving
‍
Wait I'll make another
‍
No you won't
‍
Why would you fix anything?
‍
They pace around the room
One sits down and starts peeling at the label of the glass
beer
bottle

Because I only care about
my self

Because I only care about myself.













Birthed with Jill Blutt productions
Many Thanks