We loved like goo...sticky, messy, sweetly oozing into the empty places. We looked with googley eyes upon one another. We slobbered like happy Pavlovian dogs at the sight of one another. We danced--my head nestled into his neck, his arm pulling me tightly to him, our rhythms . . . .
I wish I could look into his eyes, look long enough, deep enough, to see if I am in there somewhere, to find him, the messy man who loved me. I would find the poison and I would find the antidote. I would rewrite the script.