Do you really think I sit around feeling sorry for myself, or that I want you to do that?
I mean really, is that going to change anything?
Do you really think being in this chair, makes me blind? I see the way you stare, and those looks of pity, please I don't need those nor do I want them. I have a good life, I just happen to live it sitting around.
Do you really think I am so different, than I was before?
Do you really think, being paralyzed means, I do not have feelings, or somehow have hypersensitive feelings? I am not going to break down if you talk about going for a walk, or the latest dance moves, or the way you made cheerleading squad, really.
Do you really think that I changed so much, the day I could no longer walk, that suddenly I did not want to be your friend anymore?
Or was it that you were afraid to be mine, did I start feeling like the third wheel?
Do you really think that the silence does not bother me much more than this chair? We were best friends from the time we were three, and now you are afraid to simply call and say hi, let's hang out this weekend?
Do you really think that being in this chair, means I am going to sit in the house twenty four/7 and feel sorry for myself? I thought you knew me better than that.
To Be Continued