One day, maybe, we would all be able to believe in the stories. Or not.It seemed like a cruel joke in one way. The promise of a healing chamber that w...uld miraculously restore my legs when I'd been sweating it out in physical therapy for five years. I had progressed to the point that with the aid of braces, parallel bars, and two assistants, I could swing my legs in front of me and put weight on them long enough to move my hands. I could do this for almost ten feet. It was retraining. I had to. "Have you ever felt like, your trying to be someone your not?" he asked. All the time, I act like I don't want you don't I? But I couldn't say that."No not really, what's on your mind?" I questioned. "Just something that I think will have to change about me, you'll find out eventually." he said almost seductively."Well whatever it is I'm here for you bro." "Yeah, you always are..." he said as he put his hand on my thigh and started rubbing it. I tried not to get an erection from this but he. I couldtell what almost every woman's personality was by the way they actedand sat. There were a few that were power drinking beer, and anoccasional shooter. Then there was a group that sat quietly in thecorner, and sipped some kind of Margarita, and talking as if the worldas we know it depended on the outcome of the conversation. Last was thegroup of pledges that were being used as waitresses for the entiregroup. I noticed that Melanie was pretty much calling the shots, asevery once in a. ”“Maybe I slept with you because I really think it.”“If you really thought I was nice,” Jenny wore upon her face what my father would have described as a shit-eating grin (though why a person eating shit would be grinning is beyond me), “you wouldn’t have slept.”“Thppt!” I responded (you will note that I have finally found the energy to look up the spelling in -Bloom-County-). I also added, “Well, I was kinda wore out by someone.”“Really?” Her voice was full of mock wonder. After giving me a.
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