Thursday, November 23, 2017

Dating Game

There is a game that is being played here, both of us realize the nature of the game, neither of us acknowledge it.

Reductions of human interactions to the first smile, the first handshake, the first touch of a hand upon the shoulder, the first half lidded glance across a table, the first half veiled innuendo, the first laugh, the first uncomfortable silence, the first dropped dress, the first unzipped pant, the first soft sighs, the first collapse into bed…

There is something about this game that appeals, especially the first volley played out between two individuals that feels like a date, even though it’s probably not a date, even though it’s really just public foreplay because we all want it to end the same way, but neither of us is willing to acknowledge that.

Meetings like this, over a shared bottle of wine, shared storytelling, sharing the little ins and outs of lives that we imagine make us fascinating people, half lies, half truths, half time which is really all time designed to lead up to time in embraces, and naked and warm and close, and leaving all the happy little lies and half truths, and half stories along with the pile of clothes upon the floor.

In theory there is no winner, and there is no loser, and there is no hero, or saint, or sinner in this little game we play out here.

Time, however, keeps a different scoreboard. Time, is the worst referee, as it never calls the fouls, doesn’t offer any replays, and will not communicate the actual score.

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