One Last Try

 Marilyn Monroe Miller tried to relax and close her dry eyes and maybe even sleep on the flight to Reno. She was tied up in knots about even having to do this film. She had tried to think of a way to get out of it, but she hadn't   succeeded, and so here she was on a plane with her estranged husband, Arthur Miller, on a plane to Reno to make The Misfits. Oh, they were still married, at least legally, but they were estranged, just the same. The press, their mutual career issues, as well as their personal ones had all combined into such pressure and weight that it was virtually impossible that any marriage could have survived. It appeared they had not been the exception. Marilyn just hated having to face the inevitable, and so here she was, on the plane with Arthur.

She was exhausted already, and needed to rest before the press bombarded them at the airport. Marilyn was so tired. She wished that Arthur had not agreed to do the screenplay for the film. She knew he hated Hollywood, and that his heart was in New York, as a playwright. He'd done it for her....and for the money. She'd agreed because of her production company agreement with Milton Greene. If she backed out, everyone would have blamed Arthur. 

Marilyn knew that Arthur had tired of her. He didn't like her emotional temperament, and he didn't like the publicity that surrounded her wherever she went. Not only that, she secretly felt that he was ashamed of her sex symbol image, and was embarrassed that he had wanted to be with her. The constant publicity since they had been together had brought their marriage to its breaking point. Even though she knew he now had a relationship with Inge, she hadn't yet been ready to give up on their marriage. Maybe while they were in Nevada on the set, she would be ready. She hoped so. Arthur had kind of made it clear that there was no chance for them. It devastated her, but she was trying to accept his choice. She could not be who or what he wanted, no matter how much she wanted to be, or how hard she tried. It was just learning to live with the fact that she was trying to accept now. Arthur seemed to have already dealt with it, and had embarked on a relationship with Inge Morath. And everyone knew it. Everyone also knew that Marilyn had not accepted that fact yet. Were they sympathetic? Far from it. It seemed as though people looked for every possible way to use it to their own advantage, never mind how it affected Marilyn. 

At this point, even trying to converse with Arthur led to curt, awkward exchanges. She'd really stop trying, and so had he, unless they were on public display. Unfortunately, that happened all too often. People said that Arthur had written The Misfits "for" her. What a sick joke! It was not "for" her. Never for her. For the money. The fact that he had been willing to write the things about her and some of the other individuals portrayed in The Misfits in the manner he had wounded her. It forever altered the way she viewed the man that she had fallen in love with. But there was little that she could do about it, except try to survive. 

That's where Marilyn Monroe Miller was as she tried to rest on the flight to Reno. 

Not only did she have her strained relationship with Arthur to deal with, she had the Cal-Neva crowd expecting The Blonde Girl performance from her. Frank and Joe would be there at some point, maybe even Bobby. She was "the girl". Arthur, her husband, looked the other way and let it continue, like he always had. How could he say he loved her, and let them do what they did to her?! She would never understand it. In some ways, she was glad she didn't understand. 

Why wasn't very human Marilyn good enough for anyone, except in bed, or as a punching bag? She was a pretty, broken toy, and it seemed to her at this point that no one wanted a broken toy. She was tired of being a pretty plaything. 

She was offered champagne, and she took it.. Arthur was simply turned away from her, looking out the window. 

Maybe she should establish residency in Reno, and get a divorce. Then it would be over and done with. The filming would surely take longer than six weeks, and it was not as though she and Arthur were sharing accomodations. At this point, every time he even had to talk to her or touch her, even publicly, she saw his revulsion.

Who would want to be married to someone who repulsed them?

Marilyn's eyes were closed, but they were filled with unshed tears. WHY had she ever agreed to face this? She should just fly home to California and let Milton and Paula and Arthur sue her.

She didn't have any money anyway; what would it gain them?

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Arthur was tugging her sleeve impatiently to awaken her. They had arrived in Reno. SIGH. At least she would have a span of time to change clothes and have her hair and makeup done before they faced the press. Happy happy joy joy.....

Marilyn searched Arthur's face with her eyes, and she wondered why she had ever truly thought that he loved her. How wrong she had been. In that moment, she mourned her marriage to him, as well as the children they had not been able to have together. The ones that she had carried had only been wanted by her. It broke her heart, and she had never recovered. Not one person, including Arthur had cared. She was expected to pretend as though the children had never been conceived, and he had hated her because she didn't. Everything was always her fault.

She was out of tries with Arthur.