Meant to Be

Nathan:
[voiceover] I'm a writer, so I tend to stare a lot. I immerse myself in the world around me, but always at arm's length. I watch, I observe, I take notes.

Flight Attendant:
[serving passengers up ahead] And what would you like?

Nathan:
[voiceover] Everything is subject to become a title for a story, a line in a novel, a scene for a screenplay, but for days now I've done nothing but stare, and I don't know why. Do I not have anything worthy to write about? Must every single word have to impact the world? Why can't I just lay my hands on the keyboard and will my fingers to move? Write! Just write. A familiar voice screams at me, "Write what you know," but if I remain quiet, a still, small voice whispers to me, "Write about what you DON'T know."

Mave:
Morning, sugar. Wake up and see this great day God has given us.

Nathan:
I thought I put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door.

Mave:
You did. Is my presence in here disturbing you?

Mike:
Honey!

Linda:
What?

Mike:
You're startin' to make me nervous.

Linda:
Why?

Mike:
Why? 'Cause you're just so quiet, and you've been in that robe for... days now.

Linda:
I'm just tired.

Mike:
No, honey, this is not how YOU do tired.

Nathan:
Black's the color of sleep.

Mave:
If you say so. You just lay there and look at your rainbow while I clean up your bathroom.

[Nathan describes learning of his mother's whereabouts as being a beautifully wrapped box with a beautiful bow containing what he knows to be broken parts, which he is scared to open]

Nathan:
She rejected me once. What if she does it again?

Shelly:
Then you have to ask yourself, would you be happy just keeping the wrapping and the bow?