I am a gay man. I am also blind. I didn’t expect the call to come in as I was finishing the dishes. Then again, monumental events seem to always happen at the oddest times in our lives. It was nighttime and I had just given this very hot black blind guy my phone number, wondering if he would even call.
Behind me, my computer’s screen reader announced that new messages on the blind gay email list were in full swing. Even though I heard the headers in my Bluetooth earpiece, none of them mattered, even the ones that responded to my introductory email.
Like them, I was blind and gay. Like them, I figured I’d stick my toe in the blind gay world to see who swam in this tiny pond. I didn’t expect Sean; the man who was to call me, to be interested in my bantering’s about how I wanted to be a writer, like all of the other writers in the world. I was sure my politically incorrect humor turned noses up but, I figured, if they couldn’t handle my outlook then they weren’t my type anyway.
Suddenly, my Skype rang. My Bluetooth earpiece told me that it was Sean. I answered it right away.
“Greetings!” I said as suds leapt out of the sink and onto my clothes.
“Hello, Mr. Kingett.” A very deep voice intoned. May I ask what you are doing that requires the use of a Bluetooth headset and not a much better USB HEADSET?”
“Oh. So you know a little something about technology, huh”
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“That I do my dashing dude!”
“If you must know, I’m washing dishes.”
“The blind way, or are you attempting to use that one good eye of yours?”
“Why don’t you listen and figure out.” I smiled as I moved my cane to a different spot on the counter. I was so entranced by his voice and the attentive nature of his phone call that I forgot how to scrub a dish. Suds danced about my hands as if they were benign cheerleaders. I soon became swept up in his declarations. He needed someone because his last boyfriend left him. I wanted someone to wake up to every day so I guessed that we could fulfill each other’s need. He loved joking along with me about weird things sighties did such as ask us how to get somewhere by car. He grilled me on my interests other than writing, including inquiring why I loved the show South Park. Within hours of talking and instant messaging we developed cyber chemistry. This was love at first email.
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I was in heaven. I got what I wanted from Sean. He’d text me throughout the day telling me that he hoped this event would go well or that editor accepted my article pitch. He celebrated with me when I sold an article and he listened to me vent when I ranted and raved about the political disaster that was the No Child Left behind Act. He comforted me when I wanted to tell him that life wasn’t fair and I gave him advice on cheap adaptive technology that he was going to purchase. This was true love.
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I was there throughout the year when he would get mad at his mother because she wouldn’t drive a 40 year old man with his own booming freelance computer repair business, somewhere. I tried to super impose logic onto the situation. He reminded me that I didn’t know what she was like. I’d comfort him when he would say that nobody treated him like I treated him. This was definitely true love.
My heart ached when he expressed that he wanted me to come to his state and be with him. I explained that I’d love to come and be with him but that I just started community college and I sold some articles to the local paper so I wanted to stay here and work on my life. He understood but he wasn’t sure how much longer he would live. I gaped at all the different braille medications he displayed on his camera. I knew, immediately, that I’d be by his side no matter what. He asked me if I’d do the same even if he had HIV. When I uttered, “yes!” he compared my love to that of his mothers. I loved him more than she had and will. I was slightly taken aback but soon understood the compliment he had just given me. He saw my love for him. I had to embrace this more. This was true love.
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After a year of talking to him and stretching our true love to the farthest inch, I bought a Greyhound ticket and left for his state with a small suitcase in one hand, my red and white cane in the other, and my backpack on my back that held all my electronics. It didn’t matter that nobody knew where I was. It didn’t matter that I’d just vanish from classes and the newsroom where I was interning at; I had to embrace this true love. There wouldn’t be another chance. Days before my departure, however, Sean kept testing our love by asking me if I’d really do what I said I’d do and come to be with him. He predicted that I wouldn’t but he didn’t know how much I valued our love. I’d show him. This was true love.
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When his mother fetched me from the station I asked her how his job was doing. When she asked me what job I was talking about I was shocked that Sean had other jobs that he didn’t tell me about. I explained to her about the freelance computer business he operated out of his house. She corrected me quickly, letting me know it was her house that he lived in. his computer business was a flourishing confidence booster among family. His family never paid him a dime for helping them with their laptops and desktops. Besides, it was very basic repair anyway, very different than the advanced business that he operated. I didn’t know where his business was but I was going to help him grow it because I loved him as much as he loved me. This was true love.
I arrived with open arms into his life and he returned the favor. He showered me with kisses, bubble baths, and he would even help me get dressed in the mornings and at nights. Sean and I were inseparable. It was true love, after all. He wanted to bask in my presence constantly, even when I wanted to have some alone time to write. He needed to be with me. He needed to be held by me. Luckily, the laptop was the only distraction. My cell didn’t work out there where Sean lived. It didn’t matter though because Sean and I were going to get through the good and the bad times. Together. We were going to let our true love flourish.
I thought that His love was different than my love. I’d want to have space so I could write. He needed to hear me and feel me beside him at all times. He really needed someone to be there beside him because he didn’t have anybody with him, at all. I was all he had. He didn’t like it when I’d say I don’t want to have wine or I wanted to wear headphones when I’d be emailing someone. He needed to make sure I wasn’t getting into trouble on my computer. He’d never hurt me in any way, so I was going to help him drink all of this wine he bought. He was looking out for me. He reminded me that it was what people who are truly in love do. I wasn’t sure if this was true love.
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Months later his friend and I started chatting on Facebook. I was doing some writing advice sessions online and his friend really enjoyed my feedback. Sean became furious that I was talking to him and not Sean. I explained that, babe; I was helping him write his cover letter. Sean stomped around his apartment and kept muttering to himself. I left the session early to ask what was wrong. He told me that Terrance was a man snatcher and he would try to take me away from Sean. I asked him why he didn’t trust my intellect enough to judge that on my own basis. That was when the strike sent me sprawling on the floor. He told me that I was never to back talk him again. I realized that his kind of love wasn’t the kind of love I wanted. That night, I stayed up and packed my bags as Sean slept. Cabs didn’t come out there so I begged his mom to take me to the greyhound station. She agreed, asking me if the love didn’t work out. I didn’t know how to answer her.
As I sat on the greyhound bus to Chicago, where I now reside, I heard a newly engaged couple gushing about their wedding plans. They were tweeting their excitement and furiously squealing the news to anyone who would listen. I gave them a small smile when they looked at me sitting beside them. I told them how happy I was that they had finally found true love. They asked me if I was with somebody special of my own. I replied,
“Not yet, but I know my true love is out there, somewhere.”
