Of Myth and Cacat...and Turd.

All right. I think we’ve had enough of rock & roll stuff, for now at least. Let’s get into something less serious than that. Marriage.

Just the thought of it can be dreadful. Not that I have never wished to but as everyone may have figured by now, getting hitched is harder than I anticipated, especially when you’re a freakin’ cacat on a freakin’ wheelchair, as I found out apparently.

It’s that age-old myth, you know. The rural myth, where guys on wheelchair are as good as mentally-retarded and better off to be left in the desert waiting for vultures to have a meal out of our useless limbs, or something like that. This, should have been buried deep like decades ago. I mean, to think that one’s brain is situated somewhere along the thoracic spine, now that’s real cacat for you.

So anyway, somebody told me that marriage isn’t always a bed of roses and blabla and all the garbage. Tell me something new. But what makes people think marrying a crippled will only result in misery while marrying able-bodied men promises eternal bliss for the bride-to-be? Another stinking myth that should have been long flushed down the sewage system, let it rot and remain there together with other shit.

Not that I’m pointing fingers at anyone in particular but if only they, whoever hay they are, care to listen, that ought to pave some ways and perhaps something rational would come out of it.

Its just a typical discrimination thing you know.. To them, being confined in a wheelchair can only mean that fella is a gone case.

Didn’t it ever cross their mind that an able-bodied husband is capable to suddenly turn violent and start to kick, punch-drunk and flying head-butt the hell out of his wife’s poor ass? This may be an isolated case but still the possibility is there. I sure have heard it before somewhere. Oh, and what do you know, that really happens in our supposedly caring society and not just some great-grandmother’s mythical tale.

Somebody should be thankful if I were their son-in-law. I mean, hey, I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, I cant kick, I’m not KJ and I don’t go screwing around. In fact, I have tons of love to offer. And on top of that I don’t sit around begging for money and food.

In terms of procreation, what makes one think I cant get a boner? There you go. Another sewer-material myth. It could happen to even a healthy young man. Lets put it this way without elaborating much. On my wedding night, I know I’ll screw up and proud of it.

I have never asked for sympathy from anyone but I’ll make this an exception. We’ve been together for almost a decade and the only obstacle comes from someone dearly to her. I beg them to give just that little bit of sympathy that’s still left in them.

I need solution and I need it fast. Eloping with some dopes in the trunk is totally out of the question. To us, marriage is still about happiness, albeit the not always a bed of roses thing. We’re looking at something of a long-term commitment and to go behind the back of those who are concerned just for instant happiness is unthinkable.

Hmm…

Not quite sure if this would work because all these while I doubted about his existence. Never crossed my mind I’d turn to him when i'm down and in need. But in these trying, tight situation, desperate times call for desperate measures. So if you can hear this from wherever you are…

Please save our soul, Superman!