What Was Your First Time Like?

[thatgimpyguy]

I may regret this post later, but here goes. I noticed a lot of the comments in my “When Did You Realize” thread, and other recent threads, consisted of the difficulty that presents itself when it comes to relationships between wheelers and AB. How somehow, the disability and potential romanticism seem to go hand in hand when dealing with one’s disability to begin with. I thought that was interesting that the main thing wheelers are concerned about after an accident or inherent realization of their born disability is the hurdle of partnership. I imagine this is also true when it comes to being a dev.

So, I thought I’d make a spin off of my “When Did You Realize” thread to have people share their first experience with finding a relationship or having one, whether good or bad, wheeler or dev.

I’ll start by sharing a recent experience. I’ve talked with a few people about this on the notion that one’s severity of their disability may determine the pursuit of a relationship altogether. If I’m being honest, I, for most of my life, had thought it wasn’t right for me to date. I’d feel guilty I couldn’t provide normalcy for my mate in the traditional sense of the word. Clearly my views on the subject are changing as I discover more about dev culture, but it’s a hard stigma to shake. I mean, and I’m sure many wheelers can attest to this, but you’re just never really told we have that option. And I was brought up pretty liberally and treated like everyone else, but for some reason, the whole dating thing was never addressed to me or a lot of wheelers I’ve met.

So, I convinced myself it wasn’t an option…until “her.”….we all have met a “her.” My her was introduced to me by a friend. I immediately felt all Pepe Le Pew around her, but didn’t say anything because of my stance on dating. We spent a lot of time together, both flirting constantly. We both could tell there was something behind each others eyes besides friendship. She was an actress and was needing a reel to show casting agents. A reel, for those who don’t know, is a 5 minute-ish montage of clips from movies and TV shows and commercials that you’ve done. Well, her reel wasn’t good, so I suggested making up fake clips to fake movies and edit those together. That became our thing. I would write and direct scenes for her and she’d act them out. I was able to say the things I wanted to tell her through a camera. Tell her how much I loved her, how much I cared about her, I could kiss her through this lens.

The build up was getting bigger and bigger and we both knew we needed to talk. It was tough because I knew she felt something for me, but didn’t know how to get around the disability thing. This was part of my reasoning for not allowing myself to date. The fear of this moment, the false sense of hope in idealized Romanism, the lying to myself.

Lying is seductive. Sometimes I wish I could lie to myself again. Lie that hope and possibility and optimism still existed within me. That’s how I felt in that moment. I lost the ability to lie to myself that night. Before then, my thinking was, of course I knew hope and possibility would never exist for me, but in the back of my mind, I could always depend in the comfort of doubt. I could see it, look at hope from a distance, but knew I could only look. That was the doubt. The lie. The lie that even though 100% of my being didn’t believe in it, it was still there sitting in a corner in my mind, so I could look at it.

It’s like if a devoted evangelical, without a doubt believes in God and knows they’re going to heaven, human nature instills doubt and uncertainty. No matter how minuscule it is, it’s there. That’s what hope was for me. A human nature of doubt, but not that it didn’t exist, but doubt that it did. It was small and insignificant, but it did exist. I used to hate that I believed in hope, hate that it made me weak. No, hope doesn’t exist for you, so stop acting like a little bitch and get the fuck over it…that’s what I’d tell myself. I’d hate that having an ounce of hope made me look juvenile and cliché and pathetic and self indulgent. Because I’m not those things, those things are catalysts of pity. And I was smarter than to engulf myself in a sea of pity and let it choke the breath out of me.

Hope stayed with me for a long time. It stayed with me ‘til the doubt of its fruition dissipated in front of my face and in plain sight for my eyes to see. Hope in love. Hope in living. Hope in getting better. Hope in fixing this disgusting body of mine. All these things I knew wouldn’t happen, but doubt let me look at them from a distance…

When I talked to her that night, the hardest thing I had to do in a long time was something so silly. Something that that doubt from hope would cackle in laughter in front of my face. It even makes me embarrassed to talk about it here. Telling her I loved her was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. When we finally did get to talk about it after weeks of it looming above us, I remember talking with her in the most open way I could. I tried to be honest and mistake or no, I guess it was something that had to be done.
I could tell she didn’t know how to say it, but I could see it. I knew she loved me, but could never look past the disability and didn’t wanna hurt me. So, I didn’t make her. I was nervous, so I read her a letter that went as follows…

"I’d like to begin by saying that the hardest thing that I have thought about over the past few weeks is the thought of hurting you and ruining the friendship that I cherish so deeply. I fear that by my feelings being known, will make you awkward around me. That you will feel you’ll have to hide or hold back parts of your personality that makes who you are so special. That we will spend less time together and the time we do spend will be filled with tension and unspoken embarrassment on both of our parts. That we can never have the friendship we had before all of this. That’s what scares me the most. But as blunt as it may sound and as juvenile as it may seem, I have feelings for you; feelings that I tried so hard to put in a dark corner of my heart, hidden away and never to be let out. I tried so hard, but the feelings kept getting brighter and brighter until finally there was no more shade to hide them under anymore.

I won’t say it is love and I won’t say it is a crush, I just will say that I know what we both feel for each other is a human connection that is beyond a simple infatuation. I say that because I don’t want you to think this is a shallow display of physical attraction. Of course, with out a doubt, you are breathtakingly beautiful, and I don’t say that to receive return affection or to be complimentary, but rather I say that in the simplest form of honesty. You are, but physical beauty aside, I love your spirit, your honesty, your unpretentiousness, your tenderness, your passion, your compassion, your silliness, your kindness, your goofiness, your fearlessness, and the millions of other things that make you who you are. I say these things because I wanted to make clear that all this stress and worry and awkwardness over the past month was not over something as trivial as you having a pretty face.

I think sometimes people don’t think my feelings are genuine. It’s as if because people know I haven’t experienced a relationship like everyone else has, that somehow I don’t know or will ever know what those feelings are, and the feelings they DO see me have, are somehow not authentic. I guess the best way I can explain it is this, for so long, probably since I was ten years old, I’ve tried to prepare myself and tell myself I was not going to have what normal people have, I was always going to be alone, I was always going to be ugly and unattractive, I was always just going to be a talking head, void of being needed or having expectations from anyone, I was always going to have to never let myself get to close to people because it would result in heartache. So that’s what I did, every time I started to get interested in someone, I would push her away before I could let those feelings develop, again, putting those feelings in a dark corner. Maybe I should’ve pushed you away and by not doing so was selfish, but I just couldn’t push you away. I didn’t want to push you away. I’ve prepared myself to do that, so that when the time came where I did fall hard for someone, I would be okay and it wouldn’t hurt. I’m fine with doing that, I know I have to and I’ve come to terms with it. But the truth of the matter is, is that now that that moment has come, and that moment I’ve prepared myself for has a face and a name, I don’t feel okay and it does hurt and I could have never prepared myself for how it makes me feel. It’s like, in your heart you have so much love to give, and to know that for the rest of your life you’ll never be able to give it in the way you want to, it’s well….it’s indescribable.

I hate that it’s out of my control and that there’s nothing I can do to fix a shitty situation. With most people, you can change something about yourself or work on a character trait, so you constantly have that glimmer of hope to look forward to, but I can’t flip a switch or get a make over or take a class to change how I am and that is what’s so upsetting, that feeling of that glimmer of hope to look forward to doesn’t and will never exist. And I’m not telling you all of this to change how you feel or to make you feel guilty or I’m not looking for pity or anything like that at all. In fact, as much as I’d hate to admit to myself, maybe I’m glad you feel the way you do and I don’t blame you.

Not because I’m afraid to love you, but because it would break my heart every day we were together and watch you miss out on all the things you’d deserve from a partner and all the things I could never give to you and want you to have. It upsets me and saddens me more that I can’t be the guy I want you to have or that I think you deserve. Not that I can be the guy for you, but that I can’t be the guy I want you to have. Just a guy that can do the simple things, the everyday things. When you fall asleep on the couch, I want to be able to put a blanket over you so you won’t get cold. I want to be able to watch you walk through a door and every time, give you a hug so hard it knocks the wind out of you. If we’re in a crowded place and we have to stay quiet, I want to be able to brush your hair behind your ear with my finger, just to let you know that even though I can’t say it, I’m still thinking about you. I want to be able to kiss you a thousand times on the collar bone until it bruises. I want to be able to do a little jig with you. I want you to be able to feel my heart beat against your back as we lay in bed as you fall asleep as if to say I’m always there for you. If you’ve had a bad day at work, I want to be able to learn guitar and play you corny songs when you get home just to make you smile. I want you to be able to look at me and have the confidence, that no matter where we are, no matter what situation we’re in, that I can protect you from anything…. I want to be able to give you the world and I hate that I can’t even give you a handful of water……I can’t tell you how much that kills me inside.

You know, I’ve been in this broken body for over 20 plus years. I’ve had multiple surgeries, stayed in hospitals for months on end, I’ve been cut open, stabbed, bumped and bruised, scared, broken bones, sprained after sprained ankle, poked and prodded, and nothing…I mean nothing, hurts me more than knowing I can never do those things for you…. Those things and the thousands of others that run through my head everyday when I think about you. These are things I want you to have and again, I don’t say these things to change your mind in how you feel I just want you to know how much you effect people and that you shouldn’t settle for anything less than what you deserve. And you deserve far better than what I can offer. All I have is my heart and my spirit and my soul and I know that’s not enough.

I guess even though I know I need to not feel this way…it’s like I have this wound in my heart that bleeds so much of this feeling for you, that a part of me never wants it to heal because I don’t want to forget how you make me feel. But I know I have to. And that’s okay. It really is. I just want you to be happy. When I’m around you, that’s how I feel, happy. You make me happy and you make me forget about all the things I try so hard to. I feel that way because your friendship means so much to me. I love having you in my life, and your friendship means the world to me and even though maybe we can’t be IN love, that doesn’t means I will ever stop loving you and I don’t want that ever to go away."

I looked up at her and saw her cry as my eyes began to well up. We then talked about hurt and life and loss and love. She held my hand and with the only movement I have left in it, I stroked her palm with my first two fingers. Then she did the exact same thing with hers. At one point, during our five hour conversation she asked me something. She asked me something simple and benign that any normal person wouldn’t think twice on. And I didn’t either, but it was just a question I don’t get asked. She asked, “can we do this?” then she gestured for a hug. A simple hug. I had never hugged anyone before. Of course I’ve gotten hugs, but me, to put MY arms around someone and be the one to give them a hug, to hold them with my own two arms, that I’d never done. So I said, “of course.” And she opened my arms, laid on top of me, and wrapped my arms around her back and hers around mine. And we just laid there in silence. Then she said something matter a fact with tears in her eyes. She said, muffled from the cotton of my sleeve, “You’re holding me. You’re holding me.” And none of this I took as any kind of romantic affection, no, I took this moment in the simplest form of human honesty. Just two people being completely emotionally and humanly honest.

When she said that, it was like if someone cavalierly pointed out, oh, you’re flying or oh, you have a tail. Of course you can never have those things happen, but there they were, someone telling you you did. That’s what it was like, someone telling me I was doing something impossible. And there it was. Stupid I know, but for some reason it hit me. For a brief second, not even that, a nano second came after she said that and I suddenly…. felt normal. It made me feel normal. And all of my pain, and worry, and fear, suddenly disappeared. Just for that moment. In that moment I forgot how I was and what I am and how I looked…I was just like everybody else. I felt human. I finally knew what it was like to be human. I knew what it was like to be transparent. Invisible. Someone inconspicuous….

She gave that to me. I could never thank her enough for that. I don’t think she knows how much it meant. And again, not romantically or anything like that, but…for lack of a better word, it just felt nice… It felt nice. And I don’t know if it was the hug or something else, but for the first time in a long time, even though there were tears in both of our eyes, I felt happy, and it was nice….I’d like to think she knows that…But like that, as fast as that feeling came, it was gone, and everything came rushing back. And as I laid there, squeezing my arms as hard as I could, even though she probably could tell a difference…..

I looked down on what was happening. For the first time I was giving someone a hug, I was holding someone. And you would think it would be a moment of joy, holding someone you loved in your arms for the first time, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t because I saw what was happening. I could feel her heart beat against my chest. I could smell the shampoo in her hair. I could feel the heat radiate from her body. And I could feel the palpitation of her chest as she cried her eyes out. And I realized, I did this. My shoulder is soaking wet from her tears because of me. A moment of joy, a hug, now meant sadness. And it was my fault. That was the last thing I ever wanted, to make her sad. Make her cry. But that’s what we did, we laid together and cried. And as she stood back up, and let my arms fall back down, that’s when the doubt finally disappeared.
That was the moment when I lost it and I now knew that I really was right all along. I never had hope or possibility or optimism, and the doubt that kept it there in my mind no longer existed and never really was there in the first place. The doubt of love. Of life. Of health. I didn’t know how to lie to myself after that. The hours were getting long and the both of us ran out of things to say. When she started to leave, the last thing she said to me before she shut the door behind her was, I love you. And I believed her. And all I could say in response was, I love you too….and I’m sorry…..

After that night, we never saw each other again. She sent me an email a few days later saying loving me was too hard and she couldn’t see me anymore. I lost the ability to lie to myself that night….. I lost the ability to lie that hope, possibility, and optimism existed. And even though I always knew they never did… but over time, sometimes I hope there is a little bit of doubt left to say I’m wrong.

[BA]

Rendered speechless.

[janewheeler]

Gosh. Me too. I was rereading paragraphs just to savor them and let each word sink in.

Stunningly beautiful and heartfelt.

[Gaby]

Wow...

[jess]

I usually tend to lurk around the board to see what's new, but mostly hop on over to the stories written by our lovely authors. However, you're letter is just simply beautiful, reminding me of the first time I knew what I felt must have been "love" for another human being.

I just wanted to also say, thank you for sharing it. It is simply amazing.

[faith]

Between my tears I will tell you that there are very few women who are ever loved like that.... I hope she knows how lucky she is to have had someone feel so deeply.
Your writing is utterly amazing and your emotions are brought to life by your words.
Hang on to that hope TGG... she's going to be one blessed girl.

[Pony]

You have a gift, Gimpster...

[Deleted]

No words...

[dystrophian]

Because tgg makes me feel inadequate:

I met Roxanne through my mom. Yeah, I feel pathetic even typing that. She's the daughter of one her friends. My mom said she wanted to meet me. All I had to hear was, "Girl, twenty years old" before I said yes.
"Tell her she can come by Friday, if she wants," I said. Nick was working as my pseudo-nurse that night, so I figured that he could take us out if she wanted to.
"Well, I think she works the whole day, but I'll tell her." That was good enough. I'd been trying to meet new people, to build myself a social life. I was tired of not having friends. I mean, I had friends. Nick and Rodrigo, but Rodrigo was abroad in London. He wasn't moving back anytime soon. And ever since the tit incident, I'd promised myself to do better with girls. The only way to do that was to put myself in those situations as often as possible. Here was a chance to do that and I wasn't about to let it slip away.
Truthfully though, I didn't think she would show. A twenty year old girl has better things to do on a Friday night than to meet her mom's girlfriend's son. So I started planning other things when I didn't get confirmation that she was coming. Nick and I planned to go out, but that fell through when my brother wanted the van. So I just took a shower, put on boxers and a shirt, and surfed the internet in bed while Nick watched TV.
I don't like being in bed when meeting new people, especially girls. It gives off the wrong impression. "Here's this sedentary cripple, look at him. He's so weak and fragile." It's the exact image I try to avoid.
So I wasn't feeling very confident when I looked over my computer screen to see my mom walk in with a cute, petite, brunette girl behind her. She gave off a party girl vibe. Not "sorority party girl", but a "my liver has taken more of a beating than Tina Turner" girl.
"Raul, this is Roxanne. Roxanne this is Raul and this is Nick." said mom.
"Hi" I said sheepishly.
"Hey!"
"So let me get a chair for you." mom pulled out a chair and left the room to talk with Roxanne's mom.
"Hey dude, I'm really hungry. I'm gonna go eat something real quick. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, alright?" Nick asked. Awesome, he was leaving me to entertain a girl I'd never met. I foresaw awkwardness and communication problems.
"Alright." He left the room and there was that awkward silence between the time when you're first introduced to someone and one of you thinks of something interesting to say. The funny thing is, no matter how much you think about it, it's never that interesting.
"So... how are you?"
"I'm good, just tired from work, man."
"Where do you work?"
"'Xcuse me?" I need some kind of translator. Or one of those voice maskers that turns my voice into a sexy manly announcer voice.
"Where do you work?" I said it again, this time enunciating a little more, but not enough to SOUND like I was enunciating.
"Where do I work?" Success!
"Yeah."
"I work at Guitar Center.."
"Oh, sweet. My friend loves it there."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, he drags me there to buy himself drumsticks and play with all the expensive toys."
"Sorry, I didn't get that last part." I repeated myself again. It's not that I mind repeating myself, it's just that it makes for uncomfortable moments. And those are never fun. It went on like that for a while. I wasn't doing bad, just having trouble communicating.
"Hey man, you doing okay?" Nick poked his head in.
"Yeah." I wanted him to stay so things would go smoother, "You know, you can eat in here if you want."
"Oh, okay. Lemme go get my food." The whole dynamic changed as soon as he sat down. He was able to translate anything she didn't get and fill in lulls in our conversation with his crass humor. I got more comfortable as she got more comfortable.
"I love your dog!" She said as she pet my big goofy golden.
"Thanks."
"I have three dogs." she looked up still petting his head, "Puff, Smoke and Mary Jane." Nick and I chuckled.
"That's not obvious at all, huh?" I asked, "Does your mom know what they stand for?"
"No, I don't think so."
"So I take it you're not exactly a church girl, huh?" Nick interjected.
She grinned, "No, not really. I went to a ghetto school, so everyone was drinking and smoking by 8th grade."
"I've always wanted to try weed. I even called a medical marijuana clinic, but I pussed out." That was the most relevant thing I had to say on the subject.
"Can you smoke?" she asked.
"Yeah." It's probably not very good for my lungs, but I'm not exactly known for my good choices. Besides, if all the cool kids are doing it...
"So what are you doing on Sunday? Me and Raul are going out to... somewhere. You wanna go?"
"Well, I work on Sunday."
"What time do you get off? I don't get here 'til 7, so..."
"Oh, that's perfect. I get off at 7. Can you guys pick me up?"
"Yeah, sure."
"I can also come tomorrow after work and bring a movie if you want, Raul," Roxanne said. "Do you mind me coming at 10pm, or do you go to bed early?"
"No. Not at all. I'm a night owl, so yeah, anytime is cool." It's not like I had an awesome kegger to go to.
"Cool. We'll chill."
Our moms walked in, "Alright, Roxanne. We've gotta go. I have to get up early tomorrow." It was like the 2 minute warning. The five of us engaged in banal chit-chat. My mom talked about me and Roxanne's mom talked about her. They made fun of us more than bragged about us. At one point, I looked over at Roxanne standing behind her mom trying to silently get my attention. She then made the universal hand sign for weed, and mouthed, "You want some?" I gave a half-assed laugh and shyly looked away.
"Alright, now we have to go for real." said her mom glancing at her watch .
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I looked over at Roxanne.
"Yeah, for sure." They left the room and my mom walked them to the door.
"Hey," Nick looked over to me, "I'm proud of you."
"Oh... uh... why?" I've never been one to take compliments well.
"What do you mean why? Look at where you were two months ago, dude. You couldn't put together a coherent thought in front of two girls. You were a nervous wreck. And now look at you, you get another chance and you do a thousand times better. You made her comfortable and you're hanging out with her all weekend. You do anything you truly set your mind to. And it's amazing seeing you do it."
I blushed a little, "You give me too much credit."
"You give yourself too little."
–

The next night, I was waiting for Roxanne. I half expected her to flake. It was, after all, a Saturday night. And considering how she liked to party, it wouldn't have surprised me if somebody invited her to one and she went there instead. Hell, I wouldn't have blamed her either. I'd have been a little pissed, but would've gotten over it as long as she was honest about it.
That was all moot though because she showed up right around ten, just like she said. I was nervous. Nick wasn't there to translate or fill in any lulls the conversation with his crass humor. No safety net, and I could easily see myself falling on my face. At least with Nick I could bounce back, but I was on my own here.
"Hey!" she said, "I brought Futurama. It's my favorite show."
"Oh cool. We have the whole first season."
"Did you hear that they're bringing it back?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, but they're hiring new voice actors. That kinda sucks."
"Well, it might be okay, as long as they keep the same writers ." I wasn't doing too bad. She put the DVD on, but we didn't really watch it. It was more background noise than anything. We talked about what shows we liked, our favorite books--Farenheit 451 for her--the typical getting to know you stuff.
"So what about music?" She asked.
"It varies. Well, here, let me show you." I started opening up my iTunes.
"Oh, you have... uh... something in your nose." Goddamn it. Whenever I meet new people I try to swallow my saliva as much as I can, unlike usual when I just have sucked out. I try to be as normal as possible. This, however, usually backfires because when I try to swallow it, it goes the wrong way and out my nose.
"Oh, sorry. Can you get the nurse, please?"
"I'll do it! Just blow your nose, right? Where's the tissue?" She started looking around, found it and blew my nose. It... surprised me. People don't usually do that with me. Especially right after meeting me. I know it seems like such a small thing to mention, but there was something about the gesture. It told me something about her. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it made me feel more normal? That I can be normal. Maybe it showed me that she viewed me like a normal guy. I'm not sure, but, whatever it was, it was the first time she made my heart beat a little faster, my pulse go a little quicker and my head seem a little lighter.
We talked a little more. She told me about how she has a heart condition, how only half of her heart is working properly.
"Oh, that sucks."
"Yeah, I almost didn't make it as a baby. I had to go through a bunch of surgeries as a kid. I got a tattoo right under the scar. Wanna see it?"
"Sure." She lifted her shirt up to right before her tits. "Nothing Can Touch Me" was written in plain black ink.
"That's awesome." I smiled.
"Thanks! I might have to get a transplant in five years. But... whatever. I try not to think about it too much..." she trailed off, "So what about you? Do you have any surgeries left?"
"No. Hopefully not... I had my last surgery a couple years ago." I told her about it . Then we talked about how awesome morphine was and how much waking up from surgery sucked.
"Shit, I gotta go, dude." she said looking at the time, "I gotta get up early tomorrow."
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked as she left.
"Yep! Pick me up at 7:30." she waved goodbye. I watched her walk out with a big, goofy smirk stuck on my face. The kind you get when you're drunk and realize that shit ain't so bad. Shit might even be alright. That feeling stayed with me the rest of the night.
–

“Text Roxanne that we're on our way, please?” I asked Nick as we got into the van.
“Yup. So where are we going today, Ms. Daisy?”
“I was thinking something like Sunset Cliffs?” It's exactly what it sounds like. Big ass cliffs overlooking the ocean where you can park and watch the sunset.
“Sounds fun.” he said with a knowing smirk.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, Casanova.”
“Fuck you.” I said with a half chuckle. I hadn't really planned it as a romantic “date”. It was just something that I like doing that I thought would be fun. I didn't think of it as a date either. Truth be told, the idea never even crossed my mind. I wasn't calm, but I wasn't nervous either. I was... focused. The way you are before a big math test. You know how to do the problems, you just have to make sure you don't make any stupid mistakes.
“Hello, miss. Your Cloud 9 shuttle is here.” Nick said as we pulled up beside her.
She smiled and hopped in, “Hey, hun.” she said as she kissed me on the cheek. “Where we going?”
“Raul thought it'd fun to hang out at sunset cliffs. That okay with you?”
“Yeah, sounds fun.”
She started telling us about her work. How she didn't feel welcome there because of her gender, but that she didn't mind when customers flirted with her. And she even wore tank tops to show a bit of cleavage.
“So if a customer like Raul came in and grabbed your ass, would you care?” Subtlety is not one of Nick's stronger points.
“No, not at all.”
“There's your green light, buddy.” he said without missing a beat. I just chuckled nervously. We drove west until we ran out of highway. Then went down a dingy street filled with old houses, cheap apartments and liquor stores. The street started curving to slowly reveal the Pacific. There's something very humbling about the sea. It's so fucking vast and empty. It's the only place—aside from space—where there are no human settlements. It makes you realize just how much you don't matter outside of your own little universe. And how, in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter whether or not I did well with her or not. The world would not stop spinning if she didn't like me. And it wouldn't turn into Eden if she did. I relaxed.
“So you wanna get out or...?” asked Nick.
“Umm... yeah, That's kind of the point.” I said, looking at her for validation.
“Yeah, let's go outside and look at the ocean.” So we did. It was windy and after sunset, but it wasn't nighttime quite yet.
“I think wearing this dress was a bad idea.” she said, holding it down with both sides She was fighting the wind and the wind was winning. She grinded her teeth and squatted to try and negate the effect of the current. It didn't work. A hard gust swept in and did a Marylin Monroe on her dress. “OMIGOD!” she screamed as she struggled to put it down. “Damn, Raul's getting a show here.” she said jokingly.
“Hey, I don't mind.” The wind was my friend.
“I'm sure ya don't!”
“He really doesn't.” quipped Nick.
It was getting cold, “Do you want a blanket?” I asked her.
“Do I want to flash you?” You'd think she'd be disgusted, but she wasn't. She had an almost excited look on her face. In hindsight, I should have just let her misunderstand me. But you don't get that benefit in those situations. Tom Brady, I am not.
“Hahaha, no. Do you want a blanket?” I said, enunciating more.
“Ohhhhh, heh. No, I'm fine. Can I have a cigarette?”
“Sure.” People are always tentative about smoking around me. If my parents were there, they'd say to at least blow the smoke away from me. But I don't give a shit, I enjoy the smell. Plus, I'm a fucking rebel. I tell friends they can smoke around me.
“Mind if I take a puff?” I asked. I'd never had a smoke while sober, but it sounded good.
“Are you sure you can do that, bro?” Asked Nick.He looked a bit worried. He was still at the point where he was getting used to me.
“Yeah, no problem. Just one puff.” I took the longest and deepest drag I could. Being drunk must supress my taste buds, because I had never noticed the horrible aftertaste. It penetrated my entire being and it took all my strength to fight off my gag reflex.
“You want another puff?” Asked Roxanne. Nick looked worried.
“Nope...” I said, trying my best to keep my composure, “I'm good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I'm sure.” I made a mental note not to smoke when sober again. It got dark and colder so all three of us huddled into the van. We started talking about our lives.
“So are your parents divorced?” she asked.
“Yeah, since I was 14.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Eh, I don't mind. They were always fighting and yelling at each other. At least they can tolerate each other this way. Well... semi-tolerate each other... in really really small doses. What about you?”
“My dad left my mom when I was little. He lives somewhere else. He was in Las Vegas one time, and my sister and I were going to visit him, but he said he wanted to be with his girlfriend more. So...”
“That sucks.” said Nick.
“Yeah. I resent him, to be honest. I just want him to love me.” Everything went quiet. I mean, what the fuck do you say to do that? People aren't usually that honest or self-aware. It surprised me. I certainly didn't expect it from a petite twenty year old party chick. She transitioned into another, lighter topic. Party stories; I don't know how it happened. Good conversations are like that.
“So I've been talking to this guy for the whole party. And he's okay, you know. So he asks me, wanna come with me to the bathroom?”
“Classy.” goes Nick, “Not even a bedroom?”
“I know, right? So he asks me, right. I go, sure why not.”
“That's your answer?” Nick chuckled, “'Sure why not?' I love your excitement.”
“Well, he was... whatever. But, anyway, we go into the bathroom and start making out. And we make out for about 10 seconds. I turn around to fix my hair 'cause it's all messed up. I turn around and the guy already has his pants down.”
“What, no foreplay?” I asked.
“Yeah, you gotta give me something more than that. So I look at him, smile, pat him on the head and walk out.”
“Wow.” Nick and I said simultaneously.
“Yeah, it was a totally bitch move. I feel really bad about it, too.”
“No shit, the poor guy is probably in therapy.”
“Hell, I'd be traumatized.” I added.
“Yeah, my friend told me that was a bitch move. I agreed.” she laughed.
Eventually we got to talking about the meaning of life. Nick said he wasn't sure, he's bumbling around and trying to make the people around him happy. Roxanne said she just wanted to be happy and a good person.
“So what do you think is the meaning of life, Raul?” she asked. From an evolutionary perspective, it is to propagate and benefit the species. Philosophically speaking, the meaning of life is completely subjective. You can't assign one meaning to six billion free thinking individuals, it makes no sense. Everyone needs to find their own meaning and pursue it. All of that went through my mind in a span of three seconds. But I didn't want to start geeking out in front of her just yet. So I went with a simpler, much shorter answer.
“Sex.” I said. They both chuckled.
“I like how you bring us back around. From serious to sex.”
“I'm gonna go outside and get some air.” Nick said, “Call me if he needs anything, Roxanne.” He really didn't need fresh air, I knew that. He was giving us “space”.
“So what do you want to do when you grow up?” I asked her. I don't feel grown up, I don't think anyone ever does, they just get better at pretending.
“I think I want to be a nurse.”
“Cool. You can practice CPR on me.”
“Hahaha. You'd like that wouldn't cha?”
“Only a little bit.” I said smiling.
“So, can you drink?”
“Yeah.”
“I wanna get you drunk sometime.”
“Ha. Yeah, anytime.” It was getting late, we had been talking for about for five hours.
“I haven't had this great a conversation in a long time.” she said, “Seriously, none of my friends are as smart as you. I've had a great time tonight.”
“Thank you, me too.” I hadn't talked to anyone that long in forever. I needed it. I needed the human connection. Not having someone your age to talk to wears on you. It makes you feel broken and alone. Why won't anyone hang out you? But she made me feel okay for the first time in a while. Her phone rang, it was 1 am and her mom wanted her home.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” asked Nick after dropping her off.
“Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Colburn.”
He laughed, “Anytime, Daisy.”
–

“Wanna come over and play monopoly on Friday?” I texted her. We had talked about how no one ever wanted to play monopoly.
“Sure. I'll be over after work. Around 10 pm.”
I looked forward to Friday all week. I thought about jokes and scenarios and thought up flowcharts based on those scenarios. I know, trying to map out conversations before they happen is completely ridiculous and stupid. But it made me feel secure and comfortable. I had a plan. I was in control and I knew what I was doing
Friday night rolled around and I waited for her next door, at my uncle's. I wanted privacy from my nurses and my mom. Especially my mom. She thinks women are delicate flowers and should be treated as such. She'd be horrified to hear me talk the way I do.
10:15 - I paced back and forth, up and down the carpet for what seemed like hours. To say I was nervous is an understatement. I'd hung out with her before, but I didn't like her then. It was the first time I was hanging out with when I liked her. I had to be my best, and my best wasn't very good to begin with. So I had to be better than my best.
10:20 - “Hey there.” she said as she walked in. Game time. We made some small talk about her work (it still sucked), what I'd done during the week (jack shit) and why she worked so many hours (she liked the money).
“So you ready for some monopoly? I have a pimpin' antique set.” Yes, I collect monopoly sets and brag about them. Fuck off.
“Yeah, but I warn you, I always get Boardwalk.”
“We'll see.” Boardwalk and Parkplace are overrated. Sure the rent is a shitload, but buying the hotels will clean you out, and you're fucked if you land on someone elses property. Plus, the odds of them landing on your hotels are one in twenty, as opposed to the three out of forty on every other color. The trick is to get the middle of the road ones. I didn't tell her this, of course. I wanted to win. No one, not even her, would beat me at monopoly.
10:30 – We start playing and I land on the “Go to Jail” square on my first go around. I stayed in jail while she bought up all the property.
10:32 – I get out three turns later only roll a 12 and an 8, back in jail.
“I guess I'm just a bad boy.” I said in my best mock porno voice. I love making bad jokes.
“I guess you are.” she said laughing. We keep rolling.
10:35 – Her phone rings, it was a text. “It's one of my guy friends.” she said, answering the question I was about ask, “He wants to be with me.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. What an asshole, trying to compete with me, I hate him. He probably has the clap. And herpes. Asshole. “So what did you say?”
“I said no.” Poor guy. “He has a girlfriend, so I don't want to. He wants me on the side, but that's kind of shitty. Especially since I know her” Yup, asshole.
10:47 – She blows my nose.
10:50 – Again.
10:53 – And again. “You just like blowing me don't you?” This line works better on her than Nick. She laughs, “Oh yeah, I love it!” I can flirt, who knew?
11:00 – The nurse shows her how to use the suction machine on my mouth. There is a good joke in here somewhere.
11:04 – She blows my nose and, armed with her newfound knowledge, asks, “Do you want me to suck you?” I look at her. There's a confused look on her face until she realizes what she said. She turns period blood red and she starts laughing hysterical into my shoulder . This is the closest I've gotten to a sexual proposition and she's laughing at the thought of it. I consider sepoku.
11:07 – I have all the red properties, I start putting hotels in. She's about to pass through murderers row, baby!
“Don't worry.” she says, “I won't land on them.”
“You better hope you don't.” A 10, 8 or 11 will do it.
11:08 – It's a ten!
“Hahahahaha! Pay up, baby!” If I could fist pump, I would've.
“Whatever, I'll rebound.” she said giving me $400.
“You won't survive another.”
11:15 – She lands again and doesn't have the money to cover it.
“How about... $200 and Water Works?” she holds both up expectantly.
“Hahahaha... no. $200 and Parkplace.” I counter.
“Never. $200 and this green one.”
I ponder it. Now, I'm new at this whole girl thing thing, but I'm pretty sure my normal monopoly strategy of raping and pillaging wasn't very conductive to wooing her. “Okay, fine. But only because I'm nice.”
“You are very nice.” she grinned
“But I won't be nice next time.”
11:25 – She's dead broke and coming up on my side of the board. Well, at this point I own most of the board, but still.
“Not a 5, 7 or 8.” she prayed out loud. Snake eyes. “Yes!”
“Not so fast,” I said, “You rolled doubles, go again.” I had an idea of what to ask for should she land.
“Okay...” she counted the squares to my hotels, “Not a 3, 5 or 6.”
“Not gonna work this time...”
“Oh, hush.” she shaked the dice thoroughly in her hands. It's a 5. “Alright, what do you want?” I knew what I wanted, but I wasn't sure if
“I'll take... your green one and...” I paused, my heart started pounding. This was gonna be the ballsiest thing I'd ever done or said. But I'd promised myself that I would change, so here it went, “...aaaaannnndddda kiss?” There it was, for better or worse. I couldn't say I didn't try.
“A kiss?!”
“Yep.”
“You're gonna whore me out for monopoly money?” She said with a sly smle. She made it sound so bad.
I nodded.
“Hahahaha.Alright.” She got up and walked towards me. This was it. My first kiss. After 19 years it was finally coming and I did it all by my self. “Muuuuuuuaaa.” On the cheek. God-fucking-dammit. My grandma kisses me on the cheek. It doesn't count. I didn't tell her though. My ballsy moves ammo had been used up for the night.
11:45 – She looks at the time, “Alright, I think you beat me. You want to count it up?”
I had a huge pile of money and about 10 properties. She had $5 and 1 property. “Eh, let's call it a tie.”
“Hahaha, alright. It's a tie” She said as she packed up the set. “You want me to carry this back next door?”
“Yeah, please. After you.”
“You just want to look at my ass!” she quipped as she walked away.
I smiled, “Well, of course!” I walked her to the door.
“I had a great time tonight. It was nice to relax after work.”
“Hey, any time.”
I was proud of my self. I could interact with girls now. They're people. People I want to stick my penis in. But people nonetheless. However, with this girl, it was more than that. I wanted her to be my girlfriend.
–

She was supposed to come Friday. I got all dressed up and got my dad to get me on my chair. I planned to tell her I liked her. I'd never told any girl I liked her, why would I ever do that? I could get rejected. Hell, I probably would get rejected. And why would anyone ever subject themselves to that? The only thing worse than rejection is cancer. That, and Canada.
But that was going to change. I had to improve myself socially for my sake. For my sanity. There's only so many lonely Friday nights I can take before I go on a homicidal rampage with an AK-47 while screaming, “WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME?!?!?!”. It wears on you. You begin to wonder if there's something wrong with you. So I was going to get better.
But it was 10:30 and she was supposed be there at 10.
“Hey, you coming?” I texted her. I paced frantically back and forth, I didn't think she was coming. I wasn't happy, I had gotten all excited and psyched for to tell her. I even had a whole speech planned out, but it was all for naught. It would have to be another time. Another LATER time. I hate later and I really hate when people say they're coming and don't. So I went back to bed and got back on the computer. Just like every other Friday night.
My phone rang, “Hey, I got pulled over. I don't think I can make it, dude. I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”
“Alright, it's cool. We can watch the UFC fight. You okay, though?”
“Sure. Yeah, I'm really really sorry.”
I could forgive her for that. Getting pulled over is a legitimate excuse, I think. And I could wait one day. I could do that. My mind raced with thoughts of her that night. I could not wait until the next day.
***
“Hey, you wanna watch the UFC fight tonight?” She had told me she liked it, it's not like I was inviting her to play Super Mario or anything.
“Yeah, sure. I'll be over after work.”
I called my uncle to ask him if I could order the fight at his house, got on my chair, washed my face (twice), brushed my teeth (thrice) and spritzed on my pimpin' armany cologne. I hate cologne. It only comes out on super special occassions. Like going to the strip club. Then I started doing what I always do when I'm waiting. I paced. I paced in my room then in the kitchen then in living room then in front of the window. Not because I was looking for her to pull in the driveway, of course. I was looking at the nonexistant birds in the nonexistant trees.
I waited in my chair up to and through the whole UFC fight. I watched it with my dad waiting for my phone to ring. My mood went from giddy and excited to peeved and disillusioned.
I always give people the benefit of the doubt. I assume that that they're good and trustworthy until they prove otherwise. She hadn't done this before, but I don't like being stood up twice in a row. And I don't like being stood up and not getting an explanation. I made a conscious effort not to tolerate flakiness ever since the whole Pedro saga where he repeatedly stood me up and left me hanging for months at a time.
It was her second strike, so I wasn't going to be the one to make contact. I wouldn't ignore her calls or anything, but she had to be the one to call. Hopefully she cared enough to call because I still liked her.
***
“Hey, pimp. Roxanne told me to tell you that she's really sorry about the other weekend. That her car broke down and she lost her cell phone and got pulled over.” said Nick.
“Uh... okay. I guess that's forgivable. But why did she tell you and not me?”
“I don't know, dude. I'm just relaying the message.”
“Okay, thanks dude.” That counted as contact in my mind. So I invited her out on Sunday. I hadn't seen her in two weeks, but she'd never left my mind. Despite that, I was worried that I had built up an idealized image of her, so I decided that I was going to hold off on telling her how I felt. Because I wasn't so sure anymore.
–

“You want to give her the doll?” asked Nick.
“It's not a doll, it's an action figure.”
“It's Fry from futurama dancing in a disco costume.”
“Action figure.”
“Well, you bought it for her two weeks ago. Are you gonna give it to her tonight or wait 'til you make sure she won't keep flaking on you?”
“No. I bought it for her because I like making people happy. I have no conditions on my gifts. I don't care if I don't see her again after tonight. That, and I don't have anyone else to give the damn doll to. I don't want to get stuck with it.”
“I thought it was an action figure?”
“Whatever. Drive, Freeman.”
I tried to be even headed and not get excited about seeing her. Getting excited almost ends with disappointment for me. But I couldn't help it, no matter how hard I tried. It wasn't even the fact that I liked her that had me excited, it was more that I could see myself getting better. For the first time in a long time, I was confident in myself.
“Raul, where am I going?” asked Nick.
“Uh... make a… left?”
“You have no idea do you?”
“I have some idea.”
“You're lost aren't you?”
“No, I'm not.” I said sheepishly. I was.
“I can't believe you're lost in your own neighborhood.”
“It's dark! You can't see any landmarks.”
“Uh-huh. What about all those times you got lost during the day?”
“Flukes.”
“You give horrible directions.”
“Do not.” I pouted and sulked as I looked for any indication of where to turn. “Oh, oh, turn left!”
“Left?”
“Left.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.”
“You better be right, or I'm not taking directions from you ever again.” He turned left, right onto her street.
“BAM, MOTHERFUCKER! BAM!”
“Fine, you live another day.”
10:30 – We pick her up and exchange hellos. There's that awkward beginning of the conversation where you're all trying to find something interesting to talk about Nick breaks the ice with a simple, “So what's been going on with you?” I always overthink the simplest shit.
“So where do you want to go?” I asked her.
“I don't know. Let's just drive around. I just gotta be home by twelve.”
10:32 –“So what's been going on with you?” asked Nick.
“Umm...” she thought about it for a second. “Oh, I kinda like this guy...”
“Oh yeah?” My heart sank.
“Yeah, he came into my store and I was ringing him up. He had really beautiful blue eyes...” Asshole. He's probably a blue-eyed Nazi. “So I ring him up and he starts walking away, and all of the sudden, he comes back to me and goes, 'So are you seeing anyone?'”
That's it?! That's all it fucking takes? Blue fucking eyes and that dumb line? All this time and all I needed were blue contact lenses?Fuck that guy.
“So I gave him my number and we went out. The thing about this guy, is that, I told him he has beautiful eyes, and he kind of just laughed it off. He didn't compliment me once the whole night! I'm not asking for much, just throw me a bone once in a while, you know?” I took mental notes as Nick talked bad about the guy.
“And, “ she added, “he hasn't made a move yet.”
“Why haven't you made a move?” I asked. Sometimes I ask questions that I really shouldn't be asking
“Well, fear of rejection. I don't want to look like an ass.” This baffled me. Girls don't get rejected, they smell too nice.
10:40 – “Oh, make a right here.” she said, “There's a park right here we can hang out in.”
Now came the hard part, giving her the present. How is it hard? Well, normally, you'd just go, “Hey, I bought you a present.” Then give her the present. It's no big deal, you are the cat's pajamas. But I have to go, “Hey, Nick. Can you give her the thing?” And then watch awkwardly as tries to figure out what the thing is while wearing a look like I just asked him to calculate the distance from the earth to the sun in nipples.
“Oh, the thing.” He said. If I were her, I'd be reaching for my pepperspray. He finally took it out and gave it to her. Her face lit up like Hiroshima.
“This is so awesome.” she said, “And thoughtful. This is honestly one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
“Come here.” She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I blushed a littled.
10:45 – We're sitting on the park bench and she's smoking a cigarette. Nick gave us privacy by making excuses. I don't remember much of that conversation. All I remember was the feeling of complete satisfaction I had with her.
10:47 – Nick comes back and, somehow, starts talking about what his dream girl is like. After he's done describing his mythical perky breasted alcoholic nimphomaiac, Nikole asked me what my dream girl looks like.
“Well, she's short and a brunette and she's smoking a cigarette.” Incredibly cheesy? Yes. But it worked.
“Awww!” she gave me another kiss and hug. Putty in my hands, my dear readers. Putty in my hands.
We talked some more about trivial stuff like how to properly dispose of a body (you cut it up into tiny turd sized pieces and flush it down the toilet) for another hour.
12:03 – She looked at the time and asked us to take her home.
“Don't forget your doll.” said Nick.
“Of course not.” she said with it in her hand. “I'll never forget it.” she said as she got out. I smiled at her as I remembered why I liked her. She had a way of making me feel special.
–

“I'm gonna tell her.”
“You should.” Nick said as he visually molested his vanilla ice cream cone.
“I will. You think she'll like me back?”
“I don't know.” he said as he bit off the top of his ice cream, “She seems very flirty, but that maybe that's just how she is.”
“Oh.” I said, a bit disillusioned.
“But you should tell 'er.” He said like he knew something. Had she told him something?
“Do you know something?” My heart sped up a bit.
“I don't know anything you don't.” He said with an even more devious smile.
“If you know something you should tell me.”
“I told you I kn--.”
“MOTHERFUCKER, I BOUGHT YOU ICE CREAM!”
“Your point?”
“I buy you ice cream, you flap your lips.”
“I'm no whore. Besides, I told you, I know nothing you don't.” He was either fucking with me or trying to get me think she told him something so I would be more confident when I told her how I felt.
“Prude.”
***
We had moved from inside the house to the patio, she looked awesome. Even banal chit-chat was exciting.
“So can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
“Yeah. Shoot.” Oh sweet baby jesus. This is it.
“Would you ever date a girl in a wheelchair?” My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
“Well, I don't know. She'd have to be able to do the work on the sex. 'Cause, you know, I can't.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I see your point.” I could see my window opening.
“What about you?”
“What do you mean?” She looked confused.
“Would you ever date a guy in a wheelchair?” It was wide open and there must've some desert winds because my whole body felt hot. Everything slowed down and what was only a short 1 minute exchange seemed like hours.
“Yeah, but...”
“But?”
“The sex would have to would have to work.”
“Yeah, I know.” I knew what I needed to ask. A simple, “How about me?” would do it. Whenever I'm under stress, my chest breaks out in hives and I get itchy. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest and run away screaming. My brain told my heart to calm the fuck down, it wasn't helping shit. The heart told the brain to go fuck itself and the penis politely told both of them to get their shit together. Amidst all the confusion, my mouth had no fucking idea what was going on. And just like that, the moment was gone. We started talking about other things and I didn't hae the balls to broach the subject again.
I had done what I promised myself I wouldn't do: Pussed out. But worst of all, I'd let myself down, It's one thing to let other people down, you don't know what they want or expect from you. I don't like it, but it's unavoidable sometimes. Letting myself down though... that's unacceptable. I know what I'm capable of. So, when I don't perform up to my expectations, I mentally berate myself. And that's what I did for the rest of the night. I shut down and went inside my bubble. She talked and I responded, but I wasn't there. I was in my head. My safe little bubble.
–

I was pacing frantically in room. Well, my room isn't big enoughto pace in, so I was really just going in circles. She was coming over for the first time in a week and this was the night. I remembered the hurt and disappointment, and I didn't want to feel like that ever again. In this case, the devil I knew was worse than the devil I didn't.
So I spun and I rehearsed my very awesome confession of undying love. It was an oratory masterpiece on par with Jerry McGuire's “You had me at hello”. I stopped half-way through my 10th spin because she appeared right in front of me. She looked confused.
“Oh.” I said like I'd just been caught listening to Miley Cyrus, “What's up?”
“Eh, not much. Work work work. Too much work.”
“Well stop woking so much then.” I laughed.
“The money's too good.”
“Yeah, but you'll never be able to enjoy it if you're always working.”
“True. But...” her voice went down to a whisper, “My mom's been having money problems, so I want to help her out.” I couldn't really argue with that.
“Let's go outside.” I needed privacy in order to spit my mad game. Our moms were coming home soon, so I figured I had to move fast. But I couldn't find the perfect moment that I had last time. I didn't realize that moments like those only come around once every thousand tries until after our moms came home.
“Are we leaving now?” She asked her mom. My heart dropped so far into my stomach that I thought it was gonna come out my asshole.
“Nah, we're staying for a little bit.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, I didn't know how I was going to do it. I thought about it as we talked. Then, as I wondered how to get her alone, something clicked in my head that made me go, “fuck it”.
“Hey, I need to talk to you before you leave.” I told her with confidence.
“Oh, okay. Let's go over there.” She motioned toward the otherside of the patio. All my confidence melted in that second.
“Oh, it doesn't have to be n--” It was too late, she was already going over there. I followed.
“What's up?” she said cheerfully.
I felt sick. “I... umm...” I was losing it. I was buckling under pressure. “Sorry, this is hard for me.” I mumbled. Spit it out, dipshit! “I kinda have a crush on you.” Not exactly what I had planned, but it felt like a huge weight off my shoulders. Yes, I could've executed the whole thing a bit better, but at least I could say I had tried my best. And that was a big step up from not trying at all. For a second there, I forgot that she hadn't answered.
“Aww. That's really sweet.” Fuck, “You know what I think it is though? I think you just need to meet more girls. You haven't hung out with that many girls. And I think as you meet more girls, you'll be able to have a whole stable of girls that you'll be able to choose from. You just need to get out there more.”
“Uh, I'm trying.” I said meekly, “It's just hard for me to meet people.” How did this turn into me defending myself?
“Why? I mean, you're a pretty cocky guy.”
“Not really. I'm pretty shy until you get to know me.”
“Well, you just gotta keep trying. But I do appreciate you telling me. That took balls. Most guys don't have the balls to tell me, but you did.”
“Thank you.” I said, not sure if I should be happy or sad.
“Come on, let's get you drunk.” she said. I guess I'd be happy that night.
***
The rejection didn't really hit me until a few days later, when she updated her status to say how she was swooning over that other musician guy. It felt like I'd been punched in the gut. For the first time in my life, I hadn't been good enough. I cried that whole night and was depressed the whole day.
“Nick, take me to Sunset Cliffs.”
“Baby steps, Raul. Baby steps.” Nick told me as we watched the sunset.
“Fuck baby steps. I've waited long enough, I should've gotten it right on the first try.”
“That may be, but no one ever does. You almost did though, look at how far you've come. Three months ago you couldn't even talk to a girl . Now look at you.”
“Rejected and hopeless?”
“A few months ago you weren't even in a position to get rejected.”
“I guess.” I said as the last shimmer of sunlight skipped into the horizon, “Fuck this sunset. Let's go to Hooters and see some titties.”
EPILOGUE: I didn't see her until three weeks later and even then she only stopped by to pick something up from my mom. I always called and texted her, but she never had the time for me. So I just stopped calling. I still see her now and then, but it's not the same. Whatever romantic feelings I had for her are gone, but she'll always hold a special place in my heart. I had taken a big step in my life and she was a big part of it.

[thatgimpyguy]

Wow, I'm overwhelmed by all the positive feedback. Thank you so much. I hope it continues to evoke discussion on the topic. I'd love to read more stories from both wheelers and devs and I'm sure others would too.

[spurs2000]

This thread is amazing! I have never read such deep heartfelt human stories before and find them amazingly well-written. I have my own story, I question it pales into insignificance when reading some of the above although it echoes much of what is written above but equally has its own uniqueness for there is only one of me!

thatgimpyguy: Wow you have a powerful writing style, I think I understand you as I have felt similarly although for much of my 27 years paralysed. My hope is not broken nor my belief! It will take pretty special circumstances for it to come true but so were the circumstances that eventually led to a impairment either through birth, injury or health issue.

vancityippy: do start that thread on is it selfish?
I for one will partake provided I can be less lazy with my typing skills. LOL

[oregonchris]

Powerful stuff, thank you for sharing this.

[justplaincoolguy]

As I finished reading the story, I find myself crying uncontrollably. I'm also losing hope. I guess I have been doing a better job at deceiving myself, but each new rejection and with increasingly fewer opportunities to meet somebody, the reality is settling in like a slow death of my own spirit.

[justplaincoolguy]

Ok, I went from reading thatgimpguy's story, sobbing, to reading the story by dystrophian. Dystropian really did tell my story. sheesh!

[still]

Gimpy:
Though I’m happy you had the experience of connecting with someone on such a profound level, I also understand how difficult your life after must be. To be given a taste like you were, to be shown such an unlikely possibility only to have it end so quickly... Sometimes I feel like living in ignorance would be better.

My first time began on okcupid. I made the account in an effort to be as receptive as possible, open to whatever relationship presented itself. I highly recommend it to anyone in a chair because everything is exposed from the beginning. They see your disability and know you’d like to go on a date rather than assuming you’re incapable of intimacy. I get messages every now and then though very few lead anywhere. Others do.

The following happened about a year ago. We’d been chatting online for a while before deciding to meet up. We had coffee and it was fine, not amazing. We kept chatting every so often, nothing particularly remarkable but friendly. One day she asked to come see my studio(I paint). I was there anyway so she came over and was very taken by the place. After she left, she texted me asking to go on a date. This was the first time our interactions had seemed romantic and the first time I had been in a romantic situation since the 5th grade, literally. I was skeptical, but knew I had to do it- the possibility of a relationship, even of simply being close to another body was(is) completely seductive. We met the next night, again at the studio. She walked, I rolled, to this really great french restaurant just down the road. We ate, drank, and had a good time though I still felt hesitant, unsure what such an eager woman imagined in me and unsure I’d be able to keep up. We went back to the studio after dinner, milled around, joked. While we were talking she sat down on a low stool in the middle of the huge, empty warehouse. I came closer, moving up to where I could grab her hand. We both wanted something to happen but her body and mouth were still pretty well out of my reach... all I could do was explain my predicament. It didn’t come out too smoothly, something along the lines of, “So... I’m not really good at initiating this whole physi...”
Thank god she cut me off.