I was at work very early this morning and the hallways were still quiet and quite empty. It’s my favorite time to be in the building, like we’re slowly waking up together, sharing secrets and shaking off sleep as we prepare for the day. Walking down one of the longer corridors, a doorway from a stairwell opened to my right and a man stepped into the hallway next to me. I looked up slightly startled and gasped quietly when I noticed his necktie draped (but not knotted) around his neck, the top button of his shirt loosely unfastened. I almost couldn’t see straight for a second.
Something about catching someone in such an intimate state of disarray, pushing into the the day not quite ready, unguarded, still in progress, a casual collision in a place that is anything but casual. I felt voyeuristic, like I had witnessed something too private that I wasn’t supposed to see.
It reminded me of many of my favorite moments of being married. Sitting on the bathroom counter watching my husband get ready, the quick but thoughtful cadence of dental floss, the way he swiveled his head as he shaved, the sound of his hands patting cologne on his smooth cheeks, the curl of his hair before he brushed it, and how he seemed to walk a little more quickly after he fastened his belt, swagger in full effect after buckling his shoes.
The imperceptible intimacy of knowing someone in those ways. To see them before they are prepped to show themselves to the world. I lost that when I got divorced and I never could have known; loneliness will creep in through the tiniest cracks. An unknotted necktie. The fresh smell of cologne. An unfastened button.
I paused in the hallway while he passed. I resisted the temptation to reach out and adjust his tie. Not in a seductive kind of way. But in a familiar kind of way … “Here, let me help you.” My skin itched for the casual comfort of that kind of connection.
But that was not the time nor the place. And so, there are days when loneliness races like a pulse. And suddenly, you’re wide awake #AF. It’s palpable and burns on your skin. But what can you do? Pop the collar. Shoot the cuffs. Take on the world. Let’s go.