Dear Ms. Bickley,
It has dawned on me that all the years of questing for things to cushion and fill the spaces between my vital organs, fulfillment still escapes me. I have temporarily filled those spaces with many things. The creamy center of an oreo, banana pudding, chocolate pudding...well all things pudding. But like all perishable things, eventually the space returns and I’m am left hollow.
And so I wonder. What can I consume that will remain forever?
I have been thinking a bit about the predictability of it all. The first date. The first awkward encounter with what we want. We exchange nice-ities. We talk about our families. We pretend. We play games. We are so courteous because the want of "it" is so severe.
And so we tango. And we tango. And we tango.
The Dating beings. We talk of shy things. Oddities, vulnerabilities...the fetishes. The tango ends, but the dancing continues albeit more slowly and more seductively.
And when we have revealed the inner clockwork of ourselves, the reality that we cannot keep the time and the realization of our stubborn uncompromising ways... we find we have become Dated. Slow to the beat. Ill-fit for our dance partner.
Fuck. I think I have just depressed myself. Please bring me pudding...
Sincerely,
Duke
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