Field Notes

This was an experiment in immersion. On the living room carpet, a cluster of children sat around
a television. I braided my friend’s hair while a princess lay sleeping, awaiting the kiss she’d been
promised. When the man bent down to reach her, my tongue rubbed against the inside of my
cheeks. I wondered if mouths had a flavor. The braid in my hands came loose and I started
again.

Conclusion: one day, this body could be shared with someone else.

This was an experiment in line crossing. Heat radiated where our elbows touched on her quilt.
My ears burned as she chattered beside me, going on and on about the boy she liked. She told
me she feared kissing him. With a dry mouth, I told her she could practice with me if she wanted
to. She turned away at first, laughing into her sleeve. But the mattress dipped as she faced me
again. Her breath grew heavy. Static hummed on my face as the distance between us closed.
She tasted like soda and lip gloss. Her braces clinked against my teeth. The taste lingered as
she pulled away, turning back to her math worksheet without a word.

Conclusion: I could offer my body, and it could be received.

This was an experiment in compliance. Beer cans littered the tiles of a backyard porch, the
smell of metal mixing with chlorine. Names were chanted, each answered by a splash, until the
shouting was directed toward me. My stomach turned. Piece by piece I stripped. Buttons,
zippers, clasps. Then only sweat touched my bare skin. The noise grew into an uproar as I
climbed the board. Looking down, it all felt miles beneath me. I jumped. The water slapped
against me like ice, consuming every sense and objection. When I surfaced, laughter rattled in
my chest. My ears rang. Panting, vision blurring, teeth chattering. Electricity flooded me.
Squealing and splashing about, I turned to cheer for the next contestant.

Conclusion: conformity could be pleasurable too.

This was an experiment in trust. We lay on top of his duvet, facing each other in dimmed lamp
light. He held my hand in his, pressing it against his chest, and my other hand kneaded the curls
at the base of his neck. He smelled freshly showered. Like sandalwood, sage. His hand moved
to cup my face, and when he asked if he could kiss me, I told him yes. He seemed to hesitate,
his eyes lingering on my face. I shriveled as he closed the distance between us. This was real. I
was real. My hips shifted to let him roll on top of me. I found his hair again to pull him closer.
Warmth buzzed against my skin. The weight of him buried me into the mattress. He broke away
for a moment, searching my face, and I rose to kiss him again. When I felt him pressing back,
the pit in my stomach curdled into something sweet, something heavy that made the world go
still.

Conclusion: this body couldn’t ever be invisible again.

This was not an experiment. It was easier than a discussion. I sat on my boyfriend’s bed,
watching him pace in front of me. I was silent, daring him to say something else. He wouldn't.

He threw up his hands and said he was done. He was going to sleep. My eyes followed him as
he walked around me. He collapsed down on his back, eyes closed. I took in the way his jaw
clenched, the lines on his forehead, the way his deep breaths made his whole body rise and fall.
I wanted him gone. I asked him if he wanted to fuck. He said yes. When it was over he got in the
shower. I cleaned myself off and packed a duffel bag with the things I could. My toothbrush and
curling iron stayed behind. I put his key under his doormat and drove. Our last text message
was his agreement to return mine by the end of the week.

This was an experiment in performance. The mirror was hung on the closet door, facing the bed
sideways. I could see my reflection in it as I rode him, his arms a blur around me. My shoulders
looked rounded. I watched the glass as I drew them back, lifting my chest and correcting my
spine. My thighs began to ache, the feeling climbing to my hips as he tightened his grip around
me. I went slower, dragging out my movements and smoothing my hair. His face darkened
against the glass, and when I looked at him again his eyes were on my chest. I rehearsed a
sound in my head anyway, then let my mouth fall open. I turned to the mirror again. My mascara
was smudged, necklaces tangled, and my hair clung to the sweat on my back. My face looked
picturesque, like an actress I’d studied from a film. When I looked at him again, his face was
scrunched and his eyes were squeezed closed. I let out a hum of contentment as he unraveled,
right when I intended him to.

Conclusion: this body could master its own conduct.

This was an experiment in–
No. It wasn’t.
He wouldn’t stop talking. Telling me how beautiful I looked. That my scent drove him crazy. His
fingertips felt like ants, like he could touch any part of me and a horde of them would swarm
there. The sounds I made, he told me, were perfect, so perfect. He loved making me melt for
him. When he stroked my hair my skin shriveled. I tried to jerk away but he didn’t stop. You’re
unreal, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re so soft, so beautiful, you don’t even know
how beautiful, when your face scrunches up and your whole body tenses. God, you make me
crazy when you look at me like that. I could just drown in you. And I’d do anything for you. When
you move that way I–
I put my hand over his mouth.
Shut up.
Shut the fuck up.

His breath stilled against my palm. We stared at each other. Somewhere across the room, the
air conditioner clicked on. Who was I talking to? I brought my hand down and he rolled off of me,
mumbling sorry, I’m sorry. I didn't move again until he'd showered and left and I was alone. My
skin felt tight, like if I pressed too hard it'd wilt and peel off. When I got up to go to the bathroom
the mirror was still foggy. I locked the door and scrubbed until it burned.

Conclusion:

—
 

I held my hand under the water as it filled the tub. Bath soap I’d gotten for my birthday, epsom
salt from my running partner, lavender oil for the diffuser I never bought. Blood had soaked
through my sheets as I slept, and I left them in a bundle on my bedroom floor. My hand pressed
into my abdomen. I undressed slowly and lowered into the water, heat wrapping around my legs
and the small of my back. A streak of red dissolved from my hips as I settled. I exhaled, the
ache in my stomach tightening, and then loosening with my next breath. My head lulled toward
the window, where I could hear birds flitting along the tree branches. When I closed my eyes, I
could see them fluttering through an orchard, drinking along a glistening fountain littered with
flower petals and moss. I stayed there, just like that, until the water around me turned cool.