IMAGINING DINNER FOR TWO

The other day Savage Kitten and I discussed the events of the last year.
Of course it didn't solve anything, and given that both of us typify Asperger Syndrome, we didn't communicate very well.
Evenso, I think we are a bit more understanding of each other.

Yes, we'll remain friends. And no, it is very unlikely that we'll ever get back together as a couple.
Just in case you were wondering.

The more than twenty years that we were together were very good years.
But the past cannot be recaptured.

Nor, actually, is there any reason to even try.


Of course, all of this does rather pose a problem, as for over two decades she was the fundament of my life. Now there's just a huge hole.
I've recovered from the imbalance of the first few months, and have largely gotten my bearings back.

Still, there's this giant hole........

Can't really avoid the hole.
It's rather big.
As holes go.


EMPTINESS REMEMBERED

A week ago a friend and I were lamenting that good old-fashioned pornography - full colour photos on thick stock - was a thing of the past. The delightfully smutty magazines that young lads once hid so creatively, so that their parents might never discover their disturbing predilections, have long since been replaced by the internet. Such a pity, it's a loss of a fine tradition. Teenagers today will never understand what their fathers, grandfathers, great grandfather..... plus uncles, family friends, plumbers, parish priests..... once so deliciously indulged in.
My, this IS fine paper! Feel the texture, the weight, the thickness! It's art!

I mentioned that the loss might not be so great, even though it happened while I wasn't paying attention.
I have a filthy mind.
My inner-eye can paint a better image than the finest printing.
My finger tips will feel the textures that I fantasize.
Need I even mention that my nose and ears are also involved?

I can picture a nice young lady sitting opposite me, fully clothed.
Bright lively eyes, and rosy lips slightly parted.
There is a plate of steamed fish, and some stir-fried mustard green with little dried oysters, and a platter of black-bean shrimp, on the table between us.
Her necklace sparkles in the candle-light, languorously she lifts her chopsticks.........

Well of course she lifts chopsticks! What did you expect? Did you really think I would have an interest, perverse or otherwise, in a woman who didn't know how to eat?

The rest of the world can make all the googly eyes it wants at damned big-titted beer-swilling hamburger-fressing types, I am not interested.
Tits, beer, and hamburgers do not make someone desirable.
Being good dinner table company does.

For some reason all of my fantasies nowadays turn into detailed recipes.
It's very strange, I'm not eating more than usual.
In fact, I've actually lost weight.
Haven't been so trim in years.



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