Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Swingers Part VI
Ever wonder what the "other " people think of the main players? This week Carolyn shares her thoughts on Colb, on Tangyr, and on the life.
All that Swing Are Not Equal.
Carolyn watched the room. Every party was the same; hoping that Colb would not see her in the corner, that it was a split party and he was in the other room, or that she would be retired from the main chamber before he arrived. That March had been the best and worst of the parties to date. She had known going into it that Colb was anxious. Why he was fidgeting she wasn’t sure, but he seemed to approach that party and the one before differently.
They had been together off and on for a couple of years, never more than a semi-serious thing, but always together the third month of the quarter for ‘The Next Big Swing’. Their relationship more strained than before, especially after the December party which had seemed to send him into a funk, she had wished for something, anything to happen. Anything did indeed happen, but not at all what she had expected. Perhaps next time she would be more specific when she made her wish. When the hostess knocked softly on the door of the room she occupied with Aaron that night, she was stunned stupid for more than a moment to figure out what was happening. Being led away, told she could return shortly if she chose, and ending up in a room with Colb, Tangyr, Brent, and the hostess seemed to happen in slow motion anytime she remembered it. Colb leading her to a corner across the room from where Brent and Tangyr were talking in hushed tones; it took a long time to register what was being said.
He was letting her go. For good this time. He had to pursue this thing with Tangyr. He was kidding himself and taking advantage of her to continue to try. He didn’t mean to hurt her, yadda...yadda...yadda. How cruel was it that all she could think in that moment was, ‘Oh thank god.’? It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his company, and she’d be a liar six ways from Sunday if she tried to pretend she didn’t enjoy his body and the ways he could move it; it was more a matter of feeling like a square peg in a round hole anymore outside the bedroom and that was not how she wanted to live. Colb was a good man, a great lover, and ‘a huge catch’ to hear her girlfriends tell it, but he was not fully present lately. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, and she would not be second choice. This was for the best. Unexpected, but still a good thing.
The hostess had handled it all. Arrangements were made to get her safely home in the morning if she chose to finish her night or leave now; however she wanted to play it. She was welcome to return, though any lingering animosity, if there were any, would have to remain outside the party. She and Brent, she would later learn, were welcome to escort one another to and from the door if they were not able to find another who wished to attend with them by June, though in the scene there were plenty who may pursue them to come on their arm as they themselves had not gotten an invitation, please keep the hostess informed on what to expect. Simple, tidy, strange in a world of different than everything and everyone else, complete.
As she stood in the corner of the Carnival party watching the room, she let out a silent relieved sigh when Tangyr walked in, Colb would be in the other room. She knew they had married several long years back, and she truly did wish them well. Nights like this she longed for parties coming with someone you sort of cared for, knowing they would be there to take you home when it was over instead of the uncertainty of bringing someone that you knew, but didn’t necessarily want to be with other than sharing a cab.
Such was the way of things as a swinger. Sometimes you hit the winning numbers all in a row and got someone who loved you, that you loved back who wanted to share and experience the swingers life on a measured scale but who at the end of the day was still one hundred percent yours. That was what Colb and Tangyr had found, as well as a few other couples who came every third month to join the fun. Then there were the ones who would never settle down, didn’t want to, and came to the parties for the frivolity and new experiences. Lastly there were those like Carolyn, hoping for the first group, somehow always finding those from the second. Maybe tonight would be the night.
Her mother had always listened to the country station and sang loudly to the radio when one song came on, the name of which she didn’t know, but the line that her mother crooned off key had come to be her mantra; ‘You’ve got to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything’. That was how she lived, and how she swung. It was why Colb’s rambling departure that March had been and answer to wishes on stars, and it was why so many years later she came with someone she knew, shared a cab home and kept searching. She stood for herself.