Behind the Wall

Once off the highway the roads began to wind. I passed through numerous small nameless towns flanked by a gas station or fast food restaurant here and there. I was headed to my first visit with Isaac since he had been transferred to prison. I had not seen him in almost 6 weeks. This was to be our first contact visit, which means we can hug, kiss, and hold hands. It would also be an hour long, way longer than any non-contact visit we had had. I had been nervous for days. Isaac and I had gotten into a fight a couple days before and I knew we were both nervous. We had been looking forward to this day for over a year. I had not felt his skin, nor touched him in almost a year and a half. It was beginning to feel surreal. I began to realized I was nearing the complex which housed the three prisons. Isaac was in maximum security, the oldest and most secure area of the prisons. He had described the place as scary and once told me that they call this place "behind the wall" because they can see nothing once transported inside those walls. He stated that all one can see is the sky because the walls are so tall. That broke my heart to hear that, yet slightly fascinated me. Was it that menacing? Probably so. Tears began welling in my eyes as I approached the building. It looked like a fortress, a sanitarium or mental institution from the 40's. The wall was larger than life. I didn't want to think of my baby being housed inside those walls, miserable and depressed 24 hours a day.

I finally entered the waiting area and began the process of checking in. The rest of the visit consist more of snapshots, or observations I had while spending time with Isaac..

I remember standing at the metal gate waiting for it to open. Looking up I locked eyes with you and you smiled the hugest grin. My tears began to fall the moment I saw that smile.

You hugged me so intensely and so hard. You squeezed the life out of me and breathed it back in with your kiss.

There was a peace that fell amongst those visiting, not because of us, but because the inmates felt safe and secure within the presence of their loved ones. For a moment it was not about crime or prison or punishment, but about quality time, about chatting, about holding the hand of a loved one.

When wives or girlfriends visit, the common debate amongst inmates is whether or not these ladies are being used. They call them "tricks." Often I would shift positions to see if an inmate was looking our way scoffing or with curiosity. My boyfriend and I are quite different both physically and otherwise. I locked eyes with one man whose significant other had walked away for a moment, and he looked at me perplexed. I am not sure whether it was a good perplexed or a bad perplexed. Perhaps the idea of us together made him uncomfortable, maybe he was excited to see some diversity...My guess was he was trying to figure out how my boyfriend and I fit together. What our story was. In my mind, all I did was wonder what every one else's story was, both visitor and inmate. How did they fit together? How did their lives converge in this place?

There was an elderly woman who fell by the vending machines. The image of her son, tattooed from head to toe, long ponytail rushing to her side with a caring one rarely sees is burned in my mind.

The stern older female CO who called my boyfriend sweetheart in a motherly tone.

The way we melted together like we had never been apart while taking our picture. My head fit ever so neatly in the space between your neck and chin. To feel your skin against mine, as I leaned the weight of my body into the niche of your arms, was to feel peace.

I felt happiness in a way that I had no felt for as far back as I could remember.

Saying goodbye was the hardest part of the visit. I held onto you tightly as you kissed me. I wanted to stay there in your arms. I blew you a kiss as you waved from the caged in area you had to leave through. You were still buttoning your jumpsuit after your strip search.

I left that fortress of a building feeling lost and a little empty. I drove that winding road home with excitement and numbness inside of me. I had been strengthened in my love for you with just a touch, with a relaxed conversation and a bag of chips and two soda cans. You made me realize that maybe I am stronger than I thought I was. Maybe I can continue this journey day by day. You went back to your tiny cell with the memories of our visit. I drove away back into the freedom I know, but recognizing that our hearts remain captive together.