Monday, December 30, 2019

From "The Vanishing", a personal essay


I met Carl while working at Inman News Features. He liked to curse at his computer on deadline. Every morning we walked to Semifreddi’s for coffee and a seeded sourdough baguette. He made me laugh then as he did now. I needed that. I was nervous. I was never good with discussing my sexuality, never comfortable at the prospect of revealing my body. It took me weeks – months, if I think about it – to feel comfortable naked around my boyfriend. It was because I was me and there really was no way around that. You could only go through.

Back to that burrito. Chicken, as I recall. I’d asked them to leave off the salsa. I was toying with a tortilla chip when my mind went into a skid. It wasn’t because my period was late. It wasn’t because I felt physically different. I just felt less alone.

I took my lunch to go, walked home, called Carl.

Can’t be. I can testify. I watched you walk out with that goodie bag of pills and condoms and lube and whatever else they stuffed in that paper bag.

It wasn’t foolproof.

Maybe you screwed up on the birth control.

I was starting to get pissed. Carl, amateur contrarian itching to turn pro.

Look, Landa. I’m giving you options. That’s all.

No comments: