Written by Melissa Booey
Fifty-three days after I crashed my car into a tree I got out of my wheelchair, and that April was one of the best months of my life. I was preparing to finally go away to college, and I was falling deeply in love for the first time. He and I had spent my handicapped days writing scenes between two characters, Joe and Gwen - an honest attempt to dissipate the sexual tension between a handsome young gentle-wolf, and a crippled rapscallion.
We performed the final scene at a showcase in front of our peers, and everyone knew we were in love; everyone could see it. One of the final lines was his character, Joe, yelling at me, Gwen, because he knew she was scared of how strongly she felt for him, and that he was afraid too.
After that he took me in his arms and kissed and me, our first real, full-fledged, passionate kiss; I didn’t know it then, but that was our last moment onstage together. He took me up the mountain to “Wild P” as I called it, and we spent Friday nights dancing on the lake. I didn’t know what I had, and like precious grains of sand he gradually slipped through my post-traumatic, alcoholic fingers. But not before we inflicted irreversible damage on our paradise. Last I heard they drained the lake.