If you ever fall in love with someone who is in a wheelchair remember this:
I am in love with you and the chair is not you;
Loving someone in a wheelchair is not about the chair at all.
It is about changing their perspective, from always looking down and straight ahead,  to around and up.
Holding their hand when they think they are not normal
Take them to the movies
dinner
Travel and go places
Laugh
Talk
Cry
And when the two of you fight,  don't treat him/her as a fragile piece of glass.
Say what is on your mind
And mean it.
Apologize afterwards regardless.

I have been struck;  falling in love with him.
He is always there for me and we are the best of friends.
He doesn't know that I love him
Even though I tell him as often as I can that he is my hero.
He has always stood up for me--
He is my superhero

The pain he feels every  moment makes me want to trade places with him so he can walk
Dance at his wedding
Even if it is not with me
To actually stand up to hug his family
To be more active
(Let's go out)
Happy
(I'm alive)
But he makes sacrifices because of his body

If I could take away your pain
I'd trade your sorrows for a day
That you can walk in joy and life
A single day without your strife
And if I could trade longer, I would
So that you can live
A life with two legs and arms

Have you ever felt your soul break?  
Ever had to watch one shred slowly,
Hearing tthe rrrrriiiippp of each piece?
Have you torn one yourself?
Felt the weight of each section crumbling under your fingertips?
Taking the love out of someone does not **** them right away,  it simply drains the light from their eyes.
What once was joy and love, turns to despair and hatred,  all because of  "giving in to a temptation"
You plus him equals love
You plus another man minus him equals ******.
I have murdered before, only once, and the look on his face was enough to make the tearing echo last for months.
He was my soulmate, a partner, and when we first met I realized I would follow him anywhere.
Only I destroyed that chance for a decoy desire, and accept the haunting that is to come.
I will see him everywhere,  hear him in each room of this house, and at night the bed will sink from my guilt.
As the morning sun rises I will look over to his side that will be empty
I made my bed; I will lie in it.
My soul will alone accept the punishment, bear it,  and carry it until my heart gives out.
I love you--everything physically from head to toe, and mentally by the words you have given me(encouragement)-all of what makes you the man I fell in love with, and the soul I'd die for.
Again I love you, and I am so sorry for what I have done.

Not all love stories get the 'happily ever after.'
Some leave you breathless
Or crying
A few may have you scratching your head
'Really? All that for what?'
Love between two people can even have all of that combined.
There is a single flame inside every human being on this entire planet.
It flickers inside ourselves,  randomly choosing to be on or off throughout our lifetime, only it never brightens--
lacking the spark that increases the radiance of the fire.
When two people have a spark, their souls for a moment connect as an invisible whispering,  twirling as a dance of lovers.
There are those that never see it.
Some try to use the flicker as real love.
Yet incompleteness is inevitable!
There is a hole in the soul left by the one your soul danced with, or your fire longs for.
Live as though your fire is lit, and sooner or later it will be

"A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle"-James Keller

If ever there was a time to stop breathing I chose a clearing at dawn.
A deer appeared right as the gleam of the sun touched the top of the forest line.  
I heard a chipmunk scurrying across the oak roots rising from the ground.
A cardinal group begins to sing in the distance--as their sounds reaches me,  I realized I have been distracted and turn my attention back to the fourteen point, white-tailed buck in the clearing.
I slowly lift my weapon.
I set my aim,  positioning the cross (in the scope) at the shoulder of this magnificent creature, and I catch my breath.
The situation itself is far beyond a man simply taking the life of an animal--exceeds   the thrill of a firing pin striking, creating an explosion that builds pressure, sending a six centimeter long,  one and a half centimeter wide copper-coated bullet through the rifling pattern and into a target one hundred and fifty yards away.
I believe that Destiny brought us together based on the choices we both made.
I can only guess the animal's intentions (running away from a predator, looking for a mate, etc)
Myself?  I am here because I argued with my wife of 25 years.
The deer drops to the ground.
We all make choices.

The small Asian child ran through the street to her home in a box.  
The only world she has ever known,  inside the walls of cardboard.
Yet still she smiles and giggles
to her imaginary friends curled up with a stained teddy bear for a pillow and newspapers for a blanket.
Her parents do not know where she lives--both are too busy arguing.
She escapes from what she is told is home and flees to her box mansion on the edge of a field four blocks away.
Home is where the glue is--holding the sides--with an opening at the top showing a view of the stars.
She lies down inside, enjoying the peace and quiet (taking in the cool air and crickets chirping).
She does not worry about tomorrow, no cares for tonight, not even a thought of having to go back to noise and hate the next morning.
She sighs with love for what she has made as she closes her eyes.....
then dreams of adding  an extra room