Page 22 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“Now see, that’s the sort of thing I didn’t know about you. I just figured you had your clothes organized by size and color.”
“Labels and organization are tools that can add a little order to the chaos of life, which is important for one’s professional life. But it’s less important for the more nuanced and complicated things that come with being human. One’s sexuality is one of those things. If there’s no neat and tidy label for it, why bother putting in the energy to create one?”
“I don’t know, plenty of people do.”
“Perhaps they have too much time on their hands, or perhaps labeling themselves is of more importance to them than anything else. For me, it’s not important. I am what I am.”
“Even if it’s confusing for other people?”
“Mitchell, several things about me confuse and irritate other people. That has been a fact of my life for as long as I can remember. My ill-defined sexuality will just be added to the list.”
Mitchell sighed, leaning back again and shaking his head. “You’re such a weird mix of, like, chill and...not chill.”
“That certainly added some clarity.”
“Okay, you might be hard to read, but I recognize sarcasm when I see it. Don’t make fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Then get that little smirk off your face.”
“Just imagine,” I said, returning to the file and frowning. “You wouldn’t have to endure such torment if you hadn’t decided that our working hours were for you to try playing a prank on me. One that was doomed to fail.”
“I mean, I could have tried it on Elaine, but I’d be fucked either way.”
“You could consider not trying to prank anyone.”
“I could, yeah.”
“But you won’t.”
“I will not.” Mitchell watched me for a minute before snorting. “Is there any point in trying to get you to talk about your potential love life?”
“There is if you want to make one.”
“But you’re not going to tell me much, are you?”
“No.”
“Last partner?”
“Four years ago.”
“Man or woman?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh. How long did it last?”
I hesitated. “Long enough.”
Which I suppose was technically true, but ‘long enough’ could apply to any relationship. One that lasted only a few months and ended badly had lasted long enough because it needed to end for both people involved. It could also apply to a marriage that lasted over sixty years before one of them passed, long enough being a lifetime for them.
In this case, Nora and I had technically lasted long enough. She was a spirited woman, headstrong and determined, all things I had admired about her. At the same time, there was a thread of resentment toward the world, a strong sense of shame at the fact that she was a woman to the world but had grown up male, and she still held onto that bitterness. She had been a little wild, freer than she ever believed she was, and had managed to make me feel comfortable as myself around her.
In the end, though, our lives had been too different to mesh. I had always felt that she was trying to fill some hole inside with how voracious her appetite was for the new and exciting. She always felt I was too stuck in my ways, refusing to interact withthe world on anything but my own terms. She wanted to play and explore, and I was content to relax and witness. It might have worked if we weren’t who we were.
The result was that Nora felt neglected, and I was left feeling constantly cornered. The more she pushed, the more I dug my heels in and refused to move, and the more that incited her frustration and determination to keep pushing. The arguments were ugly near the end, with neither of us willing to back down. As it was, I didn’t think she would ever contact me again, and I could respect her decision.
