Gargadoodle. Do.

Sometimes you have to go with what you know. Its hard to go with what you don't know, because you don't know how to do it. It would be called a leap of faith, but in doing so, your leap is built off of something previously known. An entity or action with certain credentials. An offshore platform for bank accounts. A place to shout out loud with old friends, a den for the witches of Eastwick, or New Brunswick. Or a stick to throw for a certain hound dog mentioned in the last blog to chase down and chew upon...

...The ground gets softer with each step towards the creek. The whole area was once under water, from the winding of the waters path to a mile back up hill towards the cul d sac. Even up to a month prior, where we tread would have been ankle deep in water. The frogs still made their presence known, hopping from mud beds and into twigs, washed up leaves, tiny ferns and bramble. Footprints in the mud could belong to a raccoon, a badger, or perhaps the one we were looking for; a creature known as Gargadoodle.

She was long and tall and swayed like a willow tree. She wasn't Gargadoodle. But she knew of Gargadoodle. And I didn't care about Gargadoodle one bit. I cared about her. I wanted that deep hurt look she gave to stare into my deep hurt look I once craved to send back at the world, but now only wanted the balance achieved like that of the left and right hands of two'sies held tight.

You see, Gargadoodle was a ploy. To know him was to love him. And in loving him I became a vehicle for love to focus on my equal opposite. I hoped it was she beside me, both of us nearly ankle deep in mud as we came closer to the creek, our paddles packed tight in our waterproof bags, our inflatable raft lips ready to press against the mouth of our oxygen tank, our journey to find Gargadoodle on track.

Why Gargadoodle? The name, I mean? I don't know. I could always go back and find a different, less silly name. A more mature sounding name. A more sly, deft allusion to something reflexive showcasing my wit and literary might. But nay. My one day lady love out there will share a love of the name bespoken before. Gargadoodle. Do.