By Joseph Casarez and Jique Bryant
Hey everyone let me start with saying that being in a wheelchair is confining. Go figure, huh? That seems obvious, but I’m not talking about the physical confinement, but the feelings that burn inside. You see, some people assume that people in wheelchairs don’t have normal human feelings and they figure that their actions don’t affect us in an emotional way. And I want to show you that it’s not the case.
“I need to talk to you. We need to work this out. I love you so much,” he said.
I replied, “I love you too, but why would you lie? What was so special about her that you had to put me through so much pain?”
He replied, “I don’t know what happened, I just lost control.”
I didn’t say a word and just ran into the other room and closed the door. I love him with all my heart, I always have. Things will never be the same again. It’s been a couple of weeks, maybe even a month, I’ve lost track of time. I can’t even look at him the same way.
He opens the door and says, “We need to work this out. I love you, you know that.”
My eyes welled up, “No, I don’t think that’s the problem. This hurts. I’ve been trying and I don’t know how to get you to see. I need you to understand before I can even begin to forgive.”
He replied, “Then show me, let me feel it, every bit.”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m afraid if I do, we’ll go too far. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Once again he replied, “I’m hurting now. I see you crying. I can barely get you to look at me. Don’t you see? If you show me, it will be mercy. Please!”
“Alright, give me some time.”
After a while, when I was ready, I said to him, “Strip and drop to your knees…
Have I lured you into my web, yet? Those burning feelings inside come up with some kinky solutions.