Come Back by Sky Gilbert

in an age when it is so easy, you would not allow me this. We could easily see each other and chat in cyberspace, but you won’t let that happen. And that is what I must accept. Again I am thinking perhaps I should come there — or will. Of course, there is the agony of flight. Can you imagine the cavity search? I don’t think the security staff could handle searching
for
my cavities, never mind actually searching the cavities
themselves
. I hear them asking: Does this monstrous mess have holes?
    Well, I can make myself laugh; I hope I can still make you laugh too.
    There are warning signs that go beyond the severity of your tone, things I want to challenge, because I don’t understand them. First, there is your use of the word
prepare
. As if I am to be prepared for something. Is this something academic, something to do with a final exam? But you and I are still bickering over the subject matter of my post-doctoral thesis — surely it’s not time yet to prepare for that. Did the word just slip out accidentally? Was I not supposed to know this? Because I can’t imagine what else I would be prepared for. I hope you are not keeping anything from me, because the one thing I like to imagine isn’t missing from our lacerating arguments is honesty.
    I’ll get right to the point. If you can answer this question, then perhaps it will begin to bridge this gulf I feel forming between us. The gulf
must be
purely in my imagination. I’m pretty perplexed (or perhaps I should say not pretty at all, but I am perplexed) that you have found such tiny — one might even say hidden — ideas in my communication with you. And that you are so incredibly upset about it. I have sent you a missive with a long analysis and history of Dash King — who you barely mention, except to say that he is an immature individual.
    That’s a start. But then you go on to speak as if we are beyond narcissism. Certainly when the plastic surgeon is so available — for all but the most ancient, who are typically told they are beyond help (like myself) — narcissism becomes irrelevant. On the other hand, what narcissism used to be, solipsism, has certainly not disappeared. One could argue, of course, that as people live less and less in what used to be called the
real
world, they have become less concerned with how beautiful and rich they are in actuality, and in this way become less selfish by default. But surely the virtual world is selfishness personified, now that people’s acquisitive romantic cyberlives have exponentially overtaken their tedious day-to-day existence? What I’m saying is, Dash just seems more immature than people today because he is concerned with his fortunes in what we used to call reality, with success and getting laid, notions we find antique because we can have whatever we want in the virtual world. The fact that people are still, in their own ways, immature does not mean that Dash is any less so. But it’s important to put his neurosis in perspective.
    Then there is the issue of plastic surgery. It is completely shocking to me that when I actually address issues of addiction and suggest that I might be able to loosen up my routine, you decide to rail against the notion that I might have my head righted upon the end of my spine (or what’s left of it). In this last discussion, in case you have forgotten, I referred to the possibility that I might allow myself the odd cigarette, that I might not have to observe the rituals and routines that have kept my addictions in check for so many years, because I am now so set in my ways that I am not in danger of falling back under the sway of my addictions. This is a significant notion for an addict to entertain. However, you ignore these musings. I know you are cognizant of them (you miss nothing), but instead you become obsessed with my suggestion that I might get a little bit of plastic surgery. I don’t understand what