03.23.01 11:37 p.m. -Cake
"You think she's an open book but you don't know which way to turn to, do you?"
03.23.01 11:37 p.m. -Cake
I was foolish to say I do not want to desire Kate. It is beautiful to want her.
Over the past several days, I have been working harder than usual to amass a greater history in the form of old letters for this site. I want you to see progression sooner than a year from now, and the only honest way to do that is to show you letters from the past (though edited for content, coding, and tense). It is not crucial that you understand this right now. My feelings for Kate are more crucial.
I worked with my father for an hour last night to repair a broken mailbox database from a year ago, with no success. I knew for a fact that there were hundreds of old letters that would help to explain my history, who I am and who I was. Instead, I opened a 60 meg text file which was the old database and read through a sea of gibberish to find occasional sensical statements. It was hard on my eyes and heart. I began to see how perfect Kate and I were together, nearly of one soul. It was beautiful, though hard to read in every sense.
This morning I had a dream that Kate and I were playing tennis in a field with Flynn. She was so beautiful in the dream, as she is in real life (though she was wearing a bright white tennis outfit in the dream). We began holding one another in the grass and kissing (Flynn was irked that we weren't going to play tennis and went to play on the other side of the field). She cooed how much in love with me she was and will always be. I requited. Even after I woke up, I knew this to be the absolute truth.
It is right, unquestioningly, for me to desire Kate. Anything else is a game, even if I want it to be real to stop myself from hurting. I tried to play these games, and some were almost real. Yet the truth possessed me, I could not allow a lie, no matter how comely.
This truth is reciprocal, it is right for Kate to desire me. She does desire me, she kisses me and smoothes back my hair and holds me gently.
In a burst of inspiration, after a year of being quite impossible to get into, I fixed the database in a few keystrokes. Thousands of letters. Letters to Kate. At my fingertips.
So I read through them. I'm not done, but I have a good start. Often times, Kate and I would send twenty or more one-line letters a day to one another. It was amazing. So very right. We were so very right, and many of our letters expounded on how amazed we were with the other. It was what I have been wanting all these months, because it was what I had all along.
In these letters, she swore the rightness which I swear now. We transcended the normal concepts of relationships. That she loved me in a way she can't begin to fathom. That she wants to marry me one day...
I didn't cry, though my chest went numb. We are not at the end of this story, not by a long shot. This is all a chapter and I am ready to get back to the main plotline.
I tried so hard to leave Kate alone, because I thought that was what was best for her. I see now that she has needed me all along as I have needed her. Perhaps she lost sight of that, I know I have in the past. It is truth though.
I will talk to her soon. I will open the book and get out my quill. Our quill.
I love Kate.
reading: Another Roadside Attraction Tom Robbins
listening: purring... oh, that's me...
wanting: Want to venture a guess?
interesting thought: Metaphors have literal truth. Thomm Quackenbush is an author and teacher in the Hudson Valley. Double Dragon publishes four novels in his Night's Dream series (We Shadows, Danse Macabre, and Artificial Gods, and Flies to Wanton Boys). He has sold jewelry in Victorian England, confused children as a mad scientist, filed away more books than anyone has ever read, and tried to inspire the learning disabled and gifted. He is capable of crossing one eye, raising one eyebrow, and once accidentally groped a ghost. When not writing, he can be found biking, hiking the Adirondacks, grazing on snacks at art openings, and keeping a straight face when listening to people tell him they are in touch with 164 species of interstellar beings. He likes when you comment.