Stuff I've found about life.
Many years ago, back when I lived in Canada, I found myself in love. I was sure she was the one – she had long sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and the sexiest smile you’ve ever seen. She was gentle, kind, and had a wicked sense of humour. I shall call her Erin, for that’s her name.
I pined for her for years; she attended my parent’s church, so I would often find myself getting up early on Sunday mornings, just to spend that hour with her. After the service, I would drive her home, and we would play on the Super Nintendo, or go for drives in the countryside.
We became good friends, and grew closer together than I ever thought I could achieve with such a beautiful person. My heart would strain before I saw her, and ache when we said goodbye. She consumed me, and I my sole purpose in life seemed to be making her the centre of the universe.
Then, one day, a mutual friend said to me that I shouldn’t talk to her anymore. Erin didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I was heartbroken.
I plunged to a level of depression that most Emos can only dream of. My poetry would have made Robert Smith cry. I stopped caring for myself – stopped shaving, brushing my teeth, laundering my clothes. I was in a state.
Eventually the fog lifted, and I began to find there was more to life than pining after this girl. I got a new job, made some new friends, and started over with my life.
In my new job, I met another girl. She wasn’t the same as Erin, and didn’t stir the same feelings. We did spend a lot of time together, and we ended up being more like brother and sister – we each had our emotional baggage, and we provided support to each other. But I found my life was moving forward, at any rate.
Then, out of the blue, I received a phone call.
Erin.
She didn’t sound right; her speech was a bit slow, but it was her. I was talking to her again!
I quickly discovered why she was speaking differently. In the years between, she had been suffering from Chronic Progressive Multiple Sclerosis, and had quickly deteriorated from having a tremor in her hand to walking with a cane to now being confined to a wheelchair.
I have never felt such anger and sorrow at the same time. How could her God do this to her? No one deserves this, but least of all her. She was pure sunshine, and now her light was covered with twenty-four hour nursing care. Life, ladies and gentleman of B3ta, is not fair.
We began to connect again. It turned out that the reason she stopped communicating with me was that she was frightened – she had never had such strong feelings for anyone as she had for me, and she wasn’t ready for a relationship.
I went and visited her, and I found her to be only a shell of the woman I loved. Hunched over in her wheelchair, I would push her outside and hold cigarettes to her lips so she could smoke. She was sad, no doubt, but she and I still sparked. She quickly became happier, and we decided to see each other more often.
Her mum, as a slight aside, is one of the hardest working, selfless people I have ever met. She worked herself to the bone to care for her daughter, and we forged a friendship. Her mum confided in me that she was so glad that Erin called me, as she had been so sad before, but she was smiling more than ever now that I was around.
Erin and I dated in earnest, and our lives became intertwined again. It was difficult – physically, as I would have to lift her off the sofa or out of the car – and emotionally, remembering the dancing beauty I had fallen in love with years before, and comparing her to the husk before me.
But things started to change, as she became more and more ill. I found myself no longer anticipating our visits. She was regressing fast, finding it harder and harder to live with a body that twisted and refused to cooperate. She withdrew, and drew me into her sadness.
Other people started to notice the strain, and commented that I shouldn’t play the martyr anymore. It was a relationship with no possible happy ending. Erin wanted to have children, but it would probably kill her to give birth if she could carry to term. She was destined to have no legacy. I decided it would be best for me if I began living my life, instead of surrounding myself with someone who was no longer happy to be alive.
One of the hardest things I have ever done was breaking up with her. I knew it would be hard, and she didn’t make it any easier. She knew she would never have another boyfriend, she would never have sex again, she would live the rest of her life alone.
It pains me to say it, it truly does, but I felt relief when I drove away from her house for the last time.
***wavy lines to indicate a few years past…***
I had found myself in love for the first time – I quickly discovered that the other victim had been me. What I felt for Erin had been puppy love, a major league crush, but nothing else. The true love of my life – the one who lets me be who I am – became my wife. We moved to England to start fresh, and I have never been happier. I have shaken off all the baggage, and I am freely and truly in love.
For those of you that haven’t experienced true love, it’s COMPLETELY different from a crush. You very quickly realise it when you find the true love comes easy. But I digress.
So, a happy ending? No.
A few months ago, I found myself answering a phone call from my father, in Canada. He was quite sad as he described to me that Erin had been living in a nursing home for the last few years, getting steadily worse. The night before, she had peacefully closed her eyes, went to sleep, and never woke up.
I didn’t know how to feel. Guilty, as I had been living a full life, whilst she had been suffering in a hospital, with only church people and family to visit for a few hours a day. I felt relieved that she has stopped suffering. I felt glad I wasn’t a widower at the age of 36.
My wife was very understanding and suggested we send flowers. We made a donation to the local MS Society in Canada, and I shed a tear for the girl I had found… and then lost.
(w4I4q1O1 was hard at work on, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 13:10, 12 replies)

That's beautiful
and may have brought a tear to my eye.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 13:16, closed)

What a lovely and sad story.
I have a feeling she would have preferred you to live your life to the full than watch her get steadily worse.
( girlinthehole, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 13:26, closed)

Nearly had me crying at work!
:'(
(The Kwyjibo A big, dumb, balding North American ape., Wed 12 Nov 2008, 13:57, closed)

but you did fuck her
right?
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 14:13, closed)

Snort
Chortle
(RobNob, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 14:23, closed)

not sure
are they blue wings or orange wings?
(little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 14:34, closed)

ah
blue badge = blue wings = QED
(little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 14:41, closed)

Poignant read
My father has chronic progressive MS he is only 49 but he is a shadow of his former self. I have given up my work and my life to look after him, i do everthing i can for him and sometimes i feel like running away but i know there is nobody else, it was really nice to read that someone else has spent so much time with someone who is chronic progressive, i feel so selfish when all i want to do i go out for a drink and a dance but i cant, so i sulk like a child! (im 22)

Apologies for length, grammar and spelling.
(ginger_ninja, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 14:38, closed)

What a great thing to do.
However, I know someone who has gone through the same thing, also at 21 years old, and although it's a great thing you're doing for your dad, I think it's very important that you just have a little time for yourself every once in a while. Go dancing, go for a drink. Even if it's only once a month...
I hope your dad isn't in too much pain / discomfort and that you can still share great moments together.
(St. Dymphna, Thu 13 Nov 2008, 5:24, closed)

Wanking
To think, all this relationship stuff could of been avoided if only you had a wank.
(The_artist_formally_known_as_alz0r, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 20:06, closed)

Wow,
What a sad story, but it has so much light. You have found your true love and your old flame, though now no longer with us is where ever the dead go. Maybe her faith gave her hope, but it sounds like she was giving up while still with you.
It is not selfish to move on, but it is a hard decision to make. Staying with her out of guilt would have been a worse crime. After all, every one is deserving of the chance to find love. Even the severely ill and disabled can find love. May she now be at peace.
I hope that you own future continues to bring you joy and love with your partner.
Blessed be.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Wed 12 Nov 2008, 20:41, closed)

erm i'm sorry
but no

...i thought i loved this bird who was fucked with CPMS so it was tough and all, what with me being a 'victim' as well

but dont worry I'M ok! i've met some other bint and realised the first one was in fact a bit shite in the competitive love stakes. pfft nearly ended up a widower of 36. narrow escape really.

anyway, be lucky!


self centered cunt
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Thu 13 Nov 2008, 15:26, closed)