The Turning Point

Shortly after my return to my hometown, I got a job in a gym.
I needed something to occupy my time while I waited for my college career to begin.
I worked as a personal trainer/salesman. It was an easy job, that came with a free membership and lots and lots of spandex clad eye candy.

One day, a tall blonde walked through the door. She looked familiar... VERY familiar. As I approached her, she smiled at me (always a good sign).
When I got closer, I recognized her as the younger sister of a guy I had gone to school with. May. My years away had been good to her, to say the very least.

She looked like Christina Applegate, only tall and Amazonian, with long, long blonde hair. She had a deep, husky voice, like Lauren Hutton, making even a simple word like, "Hello", sound like a seduction.

She remembered me. More than I did her. We didn't run in the same crowd, so I was only a little aware of her in high school. She knew who my friends were, that I was a martial artist, and that I had gone away to serve in the Army.

By the time she left, I had forgotten to sell her a membership. She had forgotten to work out. And we had a date for that evening.

Oh, and what a date it was! We went to the local comedy club, where my best friend was a doorman. I have no idea who the act was, or what he talked about on stage.

At closing time, we went out to my car, where I kissed her for the first time. Soft. Natural.

Shortly thereafter, my friend came out and found us leaning against my car. We sat around drinking a few pilfered beers from the club, just talking. She remembered him from high school, as well. She was good about that...

As guys who have had a few beers are prone to do, my friend suddenly tackled me onto the hood of my car, in a playful, "glad you're back" kind of way. May jumped on top of us both and instructed my friend to keep me pinned down. She then kissed my forehead...HARD...for about a minute.

When she was done, he let me up. She said, "There. Now you're branded. You're mine forever."
A quick glance in the mirror revealed a hickey in the middle of my forehead.

The months that followed were wonderful. She came to the gym while I worked, we'd see each other after I got off, our days off spent just being around each other.

I had begun college at this point, taking a full load. I had the GI bill, so I didn't have to work so much. My time with May was virtually unaffected. And it kept getting better. She was right. I was hers forever.

She and I had planned to go to a party one evening.
On the day of the party, I got a phone call from a group of Army buddies that had come into town to check out the university campus. These were guys that I had gone through a lot with, and had not seen in over half a year.
May could see the conflict in my eyes and gave me an out on the party. "Go see your friends. You see me every day.".

I met up with the guys and had a good time, showing them the local bars and letting them check out the local female talent.

I got home late and went to bed.

When I woke up, I had a shower. I picked up the phone and dialed up my girl. Her father answered, which was a little odd. I cheerfully said "hello", and asked to speak to May.
He began to cry.

Dark night. Winding road. Do the math.

Crippled

I am crippled.
Some aspects are easy to see, others hidden. Some aspects are temporary, others seem to be permanent.
I am hoping to change that.
My temporary affliction is due to years of physical exertion. I am recovering from procedures intended to repair that damage, and my physical malady will cease to be an impact on my life.

I am a physical person, so this temporary downtime is frustrating. I am doing what I can to speed my recovery, so I can leave the house and resume my worklife.

My permanent affliction is an emotional one. Whether it is truly permanant remains to be seen. I do know that I have had it for most of my adult life. It deals with feeling. I feel badly.

No, that is not an example of poor grammar. By saying that I feel badly, I am stating that the mechanism which allows me to feel is broken.

It hasn't always been like that. A series of events, and my reactions to them, damaged my ability to truly interact with people. It started out in a very promising way, though...

My first "adult" relationship was a positive, healthy affair. We met over a shared love of fitness. She was a bodybuilder, as was I. I was in the service, she was a transplant to the town. She was biding her time, waiting for her purpose. I was finding out who I was going to be, as a man.

We cared about each other, without reservation. It was nice. Better than nice. It was love.
For the 2 years we were together, we were happy. No drama, no jealousy, no games. Just 2 young people, enjoying the gifts the other had to give.

My enlistment was coming to an end, and it had always been my plan to go to college. Tamara had discovered an interest in furthering her education as well, and had been accepted to the University of Michigan. Her family was there, and her family had become more important to her in the time we had been together. She stated that my connection to my family had rekindled her desire to be closer to her own.

In the second half of 1989, we kissed for the last time. She drove north, to Michigan, I drove south, to Florida.

We parted with no drama, no regrets. We were excited for each others new lives, despite their not being intertwined.

That chapter closed, never to be more than a happy memory.