They walk through the school's dimly lit hallways at a snail’s pace. The walls are decorated with a variety of campy and outdated Christmas decorations, ranging from shaggy wreaths to sparse garland. The lockers span the entire hall, all of which are empty due to Christmas break. David leads the soiree to one of the red lockers. “This one was mine.” “I remember,” Dianne responds. “And that one was mine,” she says, pointing across the hall. “I remember,” he says accordingly. David motions to sit. He holds Dianne’s hand steady as the black beanie covering her soft blonde hair slides down the memory coated metal. They sit adjacent to each other, Dianne with her arms around her chest pressed knees, David with his legs spread out. A silence fills a tiny pause, but it's not an awkward one. It's one of passion, as if violins were going to vitally burst through in an epic crescendo of nostalgia. 

“Do you remember how hopeful those days were? How good we were?” Dianne sighs out and an addictive pang fills her heart. “Of course I do. We had potential at our fingertips, our entire lives ahead of us. I really thought you'd be mine forever. I remember writing in my diary hundreds of times that I couldn't wait to be “Mrs. Dianne Hayward.” But things changed and we broke up, it's that simple, we just weren't meant to be.” David's head collapses with the weight of regret. He fiddles with the soft fabric of his gray overcoat. “You know Dianne, those days were the best times of my life. I'd give anything to go back. I shouldn't have chosen to go to college, I was so stupid. If I did it all again infinite times, I'd choose you every time. You mean more to me than life itself.” “David, you have children! Are you not happy now? You've created a family! You can't just give all that up for something we felt when we were teenagers.” “David-” “You can't tell me you don't still feel our love, Dianne. Ever since that day I never forgot what we had.” “You're speaking rubbish. You only miss the convenience of what we had. It's easy to look at the past and think it was better.” “I only speak through the musings of my heart, the intellect is corrosive, the heart’s wisdom is eternal.”

Dianne begins to speak out of disagreement, in an attempt to cover her denial, but David finds a burst of courage and cuts her off. He swiftly crouches in front of Dianne, grabbing her knees with his hands. “Don't you get it? Can't you feel it? Dianne, I never knew what a true woman was until I met you. The rest are pretenders parading around in costumes, and in earnest, in my search for love I've only ever looked for another you.” “Oh David, but…” David caresses Dianne’s cheek gently and she relents to the touch. “Dianne, it occurred to me after all these years, that I shall die, as shall you, and so shall the rest of the world. It will all end Dianne. It will all fade, crumble, and dissolve to the sands of time. What other purpose is there to our lives than to metaphysically dance together in our cosmic nihilism? What are we waiting for? Why do we pretend? I see the you underneath it all, the you under your mind and body. It's more than simple attraction Dianne, it's more than the fact that we used to be in a relationship. I love you, and isn't love the only thing we can do? I've tried to move on and trust God, a creator, or the universe, whatever you want to call it. I've tried to believe our separation was fate, but to hell with that! If we are going to exist on this plane of existence I'm going to give you my all, I'm going to kick, scream, and fight until I know you are mine. For if I can love you, when doomsday arrives, to know I loved you and you me will be enough to make me die as a complete man.” Dianne rushes into a kiss with David as tears stream down her face. The camera pans out as the background music swells and as the screen fades to black.

“What a load of crap,” Frank quacks out, blowing a raspberry. My eyes remain transfixed on the black screen, staring deeply at my faint reflection. Tears stream down my face like raindrops from the heavens. That was a woman. That was love. That was…purpose. I'm speechless; I've never been filled with such a feeling before. Love has to be the thing I've been missing my entire life. A woman's embrace, to embrace another is now my life's goal. Frank continues, “You know they only made those kinda movies for one of two broads: dumb teenagers who have never felt true love, and middle aged women who are too ignorant to give up on being starry eyed. I hate those kinds of flicks! They make me feel so dirty. I'm so glad the world moved on ya’ know? I love watching movies where heads explode and the hero loses because they're realistic. Romance is just smut for the delusional.” He stops talking and notices my hypnotized state. He scowls. “You didn't like that movie, did you, Ingus?” “I-I loved it. I want a woman like that in my life.” He nearly gags as a bellowing frog forms in his throat. 

“What for? Anything they can offer is given to us by technology. You have to understand, anything you want we have right here in this house. The TV stimulates you, the bed caresses you, video games excite you, and most of all dude, I think you need to use my Ecstasy Machine. I think you need to get these thoughts out of your head and I'm telling you, this does the job for me anytime I feel squirrelly. Your own pleasure is a one person job, ain't no need to stoop so low as embracing all that feminine crap.” He stands up to go get the machine from the bathroom. “It has all the new frequencies, you just put it on your eyes like a sleeping mask and it'll immediately send you into the throbbing heart of Xanadu.” “No, Frank.” I stand up to exclaim my point.

“I need a woman, I need whatever the two of them had on screen. Didn't you see her? Or the way she looked at him? The way they got consumed by something greater than them? You know I've never liked any of the stuff you partake in and for all this time I've felt so hopeless. But, if a love like that can exist, it has to be the meaning of life, can't you see that?” Frank waddles back to me and cranes his head underneath me. “Listen bucko, love ain't the purpose of life I'm telling ya.’” “Have you ever been in love?” “No, never, it ain't realistic and there ain't no need for it. What good does a whiney, prissy woman do? That feminism bull went out the window for a good reason. Women nowadays understand that; that's why we all dress the same, look the same, feel the same. Flowers die, machinery is forever.”

He throws himself once more unto the bed, sighing out in genuine anger. “Frank, I need to know if women like that exist. I remember you saying something about finding a Mate in The Jungle.” Frank has told me of a place farther out into the city that people go if they want to find feminine women. He mentioned it in passing when we first met but has always been reluctant to bring it up. Apparently he went a few times when he was younger but these days he can't get past the shame of it. He's always said that what he got there he could've gotten here in seconds. He looks down and to his side. “That place is for the lowest of the low, I couldn't put ya’ through that.” 

I grab him by the shoulders, “Frank, please. I need to see a true woman.” He looks up at me and takes a beat. “I'll tell ya’ where to find The Jungle, but I ain't going with you. You can hang around them all you want but I want no part in that.” He recites the route I'm supposed to take and I repeat it multiple times in my mind. I'm invigorated for once. I now know why I'm alive, and it's not to incinerate garbage! I shall be the arbiter of love, a seeker of womanhood! I, Ingus, shall make this my life's work! I put on my coat and hat while grabbing the key from the kitchen. I say goodbye to Frank and of course the roaches. “Ingus, good luck in The Jungle,” Frank says reluctantly. I swing open the decayed and crooked door. From this moment on I will embark on my quest to find out what loving a woman truly is.