"Release"

by

Carissa Halston

 

I left the building without showering.

Sneaking out of there like I’d stolen something.

I was the one at a loss.

I didn’t feel any different.

I didn’t feel older or more accomplished.

…didn’t feel like a man should have…

…would have.

When you’re a kid, you envision what adulthood will be like.

You see the milestones that will lead you there.

I imagined college, weddings, funerals…this part slipped my mind.

More like my mind selectively skipped it, actually.

It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.

It didn’t make me feel anything, really.

Should that have tipped me off?

Excess or not at all. Neither is ever healthy.

I didn’t really expect anything going in.

…wait. Poor word choice in both respects.

I’m not saying that I went in completely blind.

I’d done things.

Nothing exciting though.

And that was the point.

So I went in search.

Not your normal scenes.

I made a list:

No set-ups.

No coworkers.

No bars.

No clubs.

Train stations, but not bus stations.

Libraries, but not bookstores.

Coffee houses, but not Starbucks.

My friends were convinced they could help.

I didn’t want that.

I didn’t want to possibly hit it off with someone and then make it uncomfortable for everyone involved when things didn’t work out.

It all unfolded before me…

Awkward small talk over mini quiche.

The fumbling of phone numbers.

No follow through.

“Does he/she ever ask about me?”

I would just rather not.

So, my search began.

Many duds.

A few almosts.

The reasons were maddening.

Too nice.

Too political.

Too eager.

Too loud.

Too intense.

Too inquisitive.

Too ready for commitment.

Too close to what I may want someday.

I just wanted calm.

I wanted to let go.

I wanted to stop worrying about it.

I placed an ad.

Late 20’s.

Physical commitment wanted.

Help me put the ‘ease’ back in ‘release.’

I got a few hopefuls.

The lack of sexual preference being stated made for choppy waters.

After a month and a half, I received something promising.

“Apathetic nurturer responds to your ad.

Sounds like we want the same thing.

…just don’t ask me to smile.”

Perhaps a bit too self-aware for my taste, but worth looking into.

We arranged a meeting at a public place.

We were equally hands-off.

Curt nod for a greeting.

Sparse dialogue.

“Nice hair.”

“I like your shoes.”

“You okay with a hotel?”

“Do you have protection?”

Nothing affirmative was spoken aloud.

Only a series of glances and subtle gesticulation.

We stopped at a drug store and then found ourselves in a room with a bed and a Gideon bible.

“Kissing is okay, right?”

“Normally…unless one of us it getting paid.”

“Witty.”

It was comforting.

What we were sharing, this nameless companionship was empty but validating.

It was done.

We slept.

I sleep light.

I was woken by loud breathing. Not snoring. Just resonant breathing.

I left before asking myself if I’d made a mistake.