FOR SALE BY OWNER

FOR SALE BY OWNER

By Judith Moore

June 12, 2026

Holding the sign in both hands Patrick let his eyes slowly scan the other houses of the cul-de-sac. It was time, he was finally ready. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the front edge of his yard and pressed the thick wire legs into the ground.

FOR SALE BY OWNER

Purchased at the local hardware store, its bold block type was an ordinary statement, a total absence of personality. Patrick chuckled, because he knew it reflected his own identity that he'd worked so hard to project.

Recent cool temps had turned the last of the green grass to a lifeless khaki, brittle and erect in the air that hinted of a dreary winter, making the sign the focal point among the drab.

Standing up tall, he looked back at his own house through new eyes. It had served him well. Unnoticed at a dead end, it's concrete driveway leading to a basic tan house with a faded brown door and nothing else. The only sign of care was a small Weeping Birch standing in the middle of the front yard, planted by the previous owner, its branches now hanging limp in solitude.

Aside from the tree, there were no hedges or bushes, no flowering planters hanging from the eaves, no seasonal wreath welcoming guests in through the entry.

Had they come, they'd have found minimal furnishings, adequate for daily existence, but nothing more, certainly no indication of personality or passion of whoever might live there. This life in this house was not the one Patrick was aiming for, so he'd put no effort into the decor. For anyone who knew him, mostly his co-workers, Patrick's entire personality was engineering, remaining concealed behind his work, never venturing out, and thus none of them bothered to get to know him. Even his neighbors were barely aware of his existence, beyond an occasional wave and "Good morning," as he drove off to work each day in his faded blue sedan. The house, the car, the lot, the whole of it was as unremarkable and forgettable as was Patrick, and that's the way he liked it.

"Selling?", a voice called from the driveway two houses down. It was one of his neighbors, holding his briefcase and heading to work.

"Yes," Patrick replied, and as he did, the man turned his back, climbed into his car and drove away. That was the kind of relationship Patrick had with people. Pretty much non-existent.

He didn't have to wonder how his life came to this, he remembered every day of it.

Growing up in a small town, he learned early on to hold back. Caution ruled his life and behavior. He didn't have the same interests as the other boys in the neighborhood, he looked at things and reacted to situations differently. No one talked about such things, certainly no one would admit to such preferences. There was safety in being un-noticeable, invisible, no excuses needed to be made, it was all about survival, but the cost had been deep.

In the predawn hours he'd listened to his mother's lessons, sitting on her bed, the crucifix above the bare metal frame, her dress of washed out denim, the accepted despair in her words; "There's no point in trying to be happy, because that's not what life is about, life is hard, everyone struggles, and one day we'll all die." Some days he felt as though he were already dead.

After years of simply existing, he packed up and left, relocating to the suburbs outside a big city. There he could remain anonymous, while beginning the transformation he'd needed for so long. And so it began.

For more than a year he'd been staying in the city after work, taking latin dance classes, several much needed soul-searching self improvement courses, and a few communication classes at the local JC. With a personal commitment and a great deal of work, he began to relax and feel more like himself, a person he realized he was starting to enjoy. He'd even began shopping at a men's boutique for a new look, though he hadn't worn any of the pieces out in public yet, they were his first decadent treat to himself, one that he'd sacrificed up to now, but no longer. And it was at the boutique that he met Anthony.

He pretended he was OK with being alone, but inside he was anything but. Once he let down his wall and they started talking, the pretense didn't last long.

He held back at first, through every step of his development, slow but consistent, the way he needed to do it. The timing of Anthony's appearance in his life couldn't have been better. It was a sweet reward for years of neglecting every kind of self nurturing. Now, little by little he began to flourish, to come alive and be the delightful and articulate man he'd always known was inside him. Anthony was beyond supportive, a refreshing sweet breeze of life as their relationship bloomed.

They talked endlessly about their dreams, planned for a new beginning, spent months arranging every detail. In their hearts, they were already living it, now they would actually make the move to embrace it, all the love and joy life had saved for them.

Patrick noticed that no one batted an eye when he submitted his letter of resignation. He knew his engineering knowledge and especially his contributions to the research and development department were voraciously utilized. But the company would find another. His personal absence would't even register with most of his coworkers, that engineer in the last cubicle.

When he left work the last day, none of the guys slapped him on the back, he received no hugs from the ladies. He simply walked out unnoticed as if he were heading to lunch. Walking down the hallway toward the elevator, he glanced around, but not with any nostalgia, only anticipation of the next chapter in his life. There were no happy memories to drag him down or lament over, he wasn't even carrying the usual banker's box of personal belongings and notes. There had been none of that at his desk. Just his lunch box and the framed photo of Anthony, who, if anyone had asked, he'd have said it was his brother. But no one ever had.

The next day after his exit interview with HR, which was of course uneventful, he left through the main double glass doors of the corporate headquarters building, and as they closed behind him, he stepped out onto the expanse of the central courtyard, and felt he could breath for the first time in his life. He looked up at the sky, at puffy white clouds that looked like bunnies and dragons and palm tress on far away tropical islands that he'd dreamed about as a young boy, and he smiled tenderly at each one of them. It was his first day, in fact his first moment of living as the new Patrick.

So the difference this morning was that Patrick had a secret. His body tingled like an electrical charge on a stormy night. Never had he been so excited about anything. A secret bigger than quitting his job and selling his house. Bigger than going on a six month cruise. Bigger than any of that, and he could barely keep from yelling it to the entire neighborhood. But it wasn't anything he wanted to share with anyone. Not yet. It was his secret, and it would change him, it would change everything.

After one final walkthrough, Patrick hesitated only briefly, then secured the door and attached the lock box, picked up his bags, and walked down the concrete driveway to his car. His smile came naturally as he saw Anthony's image pop up on his ring tone. "Hi," his voice full of feeling, "I'm just leaving. Are you ready? I know you've packed way too much, remember that we will have lots of opportunity to buy fun cloths during the trip, so leave plenty of room in your suitcase."

"The ship boards in less than three hours, don't you think we should already be on our way?" Anthony's voice a nervous shrill.

"We're fine, I'll see you in ten to fifteen minutes. Keep breathing, review your list, leave the keys for the housekeeper, and try to relax."

Patrick hung up and smiled again, Anthony got excited easily, sometimes a bit too much, but that was another reason they blended so well. Patrick's calm demeanor was the soothing affection Anthony needed. Anthony's joy of life was the missing link for Patrick. They would soon be one and the same, on a six month cruise around the Caribbean, with the Captain performing the ceremony the first night out.

An adventurous dream life come true, the culmination of nearly two years of work, and a 180˚ turnaround from the drab FOR SALE BY OWNER sign that now stood alone in front of a drab house, at the end of the drab driveway, that had belonged to the drab previous owner who no longer existed.