The Company of Wants

Are relationships what define us?
That thought of killing time on our own until "we" can be. A me that rides slipshod into we.
For me the brutal truth is I enjoy the pangs of longing for someone, that resonating hollow of solitude more than that inevitable disappointing snake eyes rolled in the crap shoot of love.
Does this make me a perpetual adolescent incapable of handling disappointment?
Yes. I have the pimples to prove it.
A control freak? I dont like the way you say "control"
A man so immersed in fantasy he needs medication? Yes please make it in Flintstones shapes.
In a certain sense I'm never alone. I have the company of wants.
I can look at anyone smooching in the starbucks and be filled by their love and turn my head and dunk my biscotti as soon a they start the hostile bitching.
But can I date my longings?
Sure. And I will never get the peck on the cheek at the door with my urge to burst out "what kind of shit was that"
I might get the flash of sultry eyes and an invitation to come in but I decline because I don't want to ruin things this early. I need to take it slow in my imagined longings. There is as much a woman in the imagination saying "It was great and you fucked it up" as there are in the flesh. Besides there are stairs of longing. Each can twist an ankle or take you where you want to go.

Can I spoon with my longings? Sure. It is really not that difficult to hump the idea of warmth.
As long as my brain works I can nestle with the full blankets, the substitute weight of comforting emotion, run my hands down the curves of her sad hips who still cant have children and smell her dollar store strawberry shampoo on the pillow.
C'mon though is it really the same as flanneled p.j babe who says "get up sleepy head lets go get breakfast?" Before you know it you're exchanging empty pleasantries, committed yourself to a day of shopping and become as domesticated and boring as the man who orders the fruit plate.
Can I buy my longings corny sweaters? Yes and not get the "what the hell is this who makes this and what part of a knitted sunset did you think I would enjoy"?
I can buy my longings teenage ninja turtles rubber boots at Goodwill and they always fit.
I can buy her animal barrettes from the local drug store and her chemo wont keep the giraffe from sliding off.
Can I socialize with my longings and bring her to a dinner party for couples and make clever conversation while I touch her imagined thigh under the table?
Sure its a bit awkward at first when the hostess at the door asks you where is your date
and you have to convince she is right here next to you in a see through plastic raincoat wearing a diamond lace body suit. But before you know it your hostess just loves her and says "she"s a keeper" especially when your longing compliments the hostess on her organic stuffing "its like the croutons were born of air but lived a life of garlicy substance"
It is time for me to go to go pick apples with my longings. I will grab her by her scarf and french kiss her under the Macintosh tree only to have a Sunday family of Christians give me a dirty look.

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