Out There

by Kate Folk

In the past I had approached dating with the typical fervor of an addict. I’d worked independently to construct the scaffolding of a relationship, then waited for the man I was seeing to step into the blank space I’d retained in his form. Inevitably, he would either balk at the role I’d assigned him, or accede to my formidable will, at which point I’d realize I didn’t really want him as my boyfriend anyway.

It was nice to have four mammals under one roof, each of us trusting the others not to kill us while we slept.

You have to make your mistakes with people early on, when you first meet them, or the door slams shut. You forget there was ever a door to begin with.

bulwark

The feeling was sucked out, the bare facts remaining, like the fiber expelled by the juicer.

I’d had every opportunity to be fully present with Sam, but the absence of distraction had only revealed our disconnection.

razing

I think Brandon said we should hang out again and I was like, yeah, and then when he named an actual day of the week I never responded and deleted all our texts.

I almost convince myself that it’s a relief, to no longer have something to lose.

cuirass

to sink back into the normalcy of my morning commute, of working in an office among people who don’t know what I’m capable of.

molding my supple bones into the shape of his desire.