Is change good? I believe so. As I sit here Me my United States history class, I'm thinking about what I'm planning. I'm planning on moving to Mississippi next week and then some. You know, many, many people, have told me that Sean deserves someone better, that I will be too much for him to take care of. I can't tell you how many times I have been told that. That I'm not good enough for Sean, that Sean needs someone who can walk, and someone who can dress himself in a normal time frame. If I were to count how many people have told me this: I’d count up to 56, and that doesn't even include the people who he has told me about. I feel really sad when people tell me that. People dot get how much I need him, and how much I want to be with him. People don't understand that I do help him out in many ways, all be it the small things such as calming him down when things are bad, and making him feel important. I make him happy. One day while I was there at his place: he sat me down on the couch after I just met a friend of his. He easily scooped me up and sat me in his lap, and my hands automatically wrap themselves around him, and my one good eye automatically looks at his face. I'm worried about what his friend thinks of me so I want to ask him.
“So… what does he think?” Sean does something that I don't quite expect. He sighs and he looks at me seriously. I immediately know what he's going to say. His face gives it away like a free bumper sticker.
“okay.” He says. “Please don't feel bad, okay? Because I do believe it. He said that I can do better. That I can find someone better than you.” Instantly tears start to bubble to the surface. Out of all my weak points that's the biggest one. Composing myself, I take a deep breath and ask
“My blindness?” Sean looks at me very seriously.
“No. not your blindness.” He must know how badly this hurts, because he kisses me and holds me tighter on his lap. I can feel my stomach sinking along with my mood. I'm a strong vibrant smart individual who will fight for any advocacy that needs to be done, but I don't do well when I'm compared to able bodied people that's a nerve that not many people know about but people have seemed to poke it over the last few days. Sean can hear me crying softly in front of him, and he kisses my falling tears.
“I don’t get it!” I sob and press into him. “I don’t get it! I'm smart Sean! I’m not hopeless, or useless! I have well… good…” I can't even finish. All I wonna do is have Sean hold me and hold me tight. I know I have good traits and good qualities. Doesn't my intelligence count for anything? Doesn't my drive shape me at all? Why can't people see that? This is what I'm thinking as I cry and sob into Sean's shoulder. I slowly sit up and look him directly in the eye.
“I'm so—“he shushes me with a soft warm hand firmly on my trebling lips. I just sit there and just shudder and shake and sob. “I can't help it Sean! I want to help you just as much as you help me.” That couldn't be anything further from the truth. I meant that one sentence with all my heart and soul. It hurt me when people accuse me of making Sean my slave. It hurt me even more when people say “you can't care for him when he's really sick. What if he really gets sick, then what, Robert? Huh? When Sean gets sick will you just expect him to care for you?” That makes me feel so useless when people say that to me. People have many times, and I'm pretty sure people will. Thinking this, hearing people say these things in my head, I cry again.
“Oh baby! What's wrong! Tell me. What's wrong baby!” Sean says hearing me cry all over again. I just continue to sob and let Sean kiss my tears away. I don’t want to tell him because it would just tear me apart. I want so badly to make Sean happy, and I want so badly to make Sean peaceful. I don’t want to him to feel burdened by me, because I love him. I don’t want to listen to people telling me that I am, but it still hurts. It hurts even more that when Sean gets sick, I can't take care of him. It's not fair at all because I love Sean so much. I need him to survive. I want to have him and I need him at the same time. We are two halves of a whole, but I wish so badly that I can make him happy. I wish so badly that I didn't have cerebral palsy. I wish I could do more or him because that's how much I love him. Why don't people understand that? I don't know, and I don't think I ever will. It breaks my heart… I love him, and I'm not trying to make him my slave. Don't people get it? I wish I could do more! Later, in bed: I wake up and I look over at Sean's sleeping form. He looks so peaceful. his loud deep snoars let me know how happy he is. I slowly touch him, and start crying again. At first, I startto say two words. My mouth opens, the words bubble in my throat , my hand rests lightly in his. Me doesn't stir, I slowly lean down as much as my cerebral palsy will allow and kiss him on the lips. Again, instead of saying the two words that I plan to say, I say 10 words from the heart.
“I love you and I know you love me too.”
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irish colleen in green
Kerry Lauerman
Joan Walsh
Salon.com
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