<Matthew Erwin>

Around six years ago, on my birthday, my dad was in a severe car accident. A man was texting while driving, not paying attention to the road. He was driving on a two-lane road, one way was heading east, the other was heading west. The man that crashed into my dad swerved into the opposing lane, striking my father head-on.

When I was eleven years old, a police officer visited our class and talked about road safety. I remember her mentioning about fast head-on crashes. She said there was a fifty-fifty chance of survival, especially traveling at high speeds.

My dad was driving a 2006 Dodge Caravan and the man that crashed into him was in a 1994 Toyota Camry. In other words, my dad was in a van and the man was in a regular car, which was a slight advantage for my dad.

Both cars were totaled and so were the men that left that crash. The man survived, however, he was paralyzed from the neck down. Unfortunately, that man would never be able to move a muscle again. 

My dad's legs were in critical condition. With lots of bed rest. physical therapy, medication, and the simple surgical procedure, the doctors said he would be fine. 

But they were dead wrong.

About a couple of weeks later after his surgery, my dad's legs began to swell and cause unbearable pain. 

They scanned his legs to see what was wrong with him. There was a large tumor that was wrapped in the muscle, slowly eating away at his bone in the left leg. The right leg was rejecting the blood and suffocating itself. 

It led to amputation or else my dad's life.

My dad, once a marathon runner for fun, rotted into a weak, chunky, miserable alcoholic in a wheelchair. His once grinning face transformed into a long beard, furrowed brows, and a permanent frown. He was a man but then became a monster. My dad was the perfect representation of how when good things are taken from someone, they wilt. They wilt like a flower in a sandy desert.

Not only was he depressed and angry, but he also made our lives wretched. He would never beat us physically but he did with his words. I would listen to mom cry herself to sleep every night when I pressed my ear against my bedroom wall.

My dad didn't hate us, he was just empty.

Though, today was different.

My dad wasn't slouched in his wheelchair, his eyes glued to the television, frowning. He was slumped over, shaking.

But not in his chair.

My dad's hands were gripped tightly on a walker, using it as a crutch.

He was standing, his legs were made of titanium and aluminum, they were shaky, but they were holding him up.

It's been six years since I've seen my dad stand.

And smile. Tears trickled into his beard, he was crying tears of joy.

Mom placed a hand on my shoulder, "insurance paid for the adaptive legs, luckily for us, it was doctor and therapist recommended," her wrinkled face formed into a relieved smile. She was only forty-five but her stress mirrors her as a sixty-two year old.

I glanced at Lewis, he was grinning at my dad, quietly introducing myself.

I was surprised of Dad when he replied with friendly vibe. My dad was slowly becoming the man he used to be. His eyes weren't furrowed nor his face crinkled into its normal position.

My dad was reborn at the age of forty seven. And Lewis, my destined soulmate, was the first one to meet him.

***

"So you're from England?" Mom confirmed with Lewis, interested in him.

"What's it like there? Do you love tea?" Angela questioned him. A bit of a raciest question, but I'm sure Lewis wouldn't take offense to it.

"Some kinds, yes, who doesn't?" Lewis answered, then chuckled at his own joke.

"Well, Mr. Matthew despises all kinds of tea," my mom blurted, ratting me out to my English boyfriend.

Lewis gasped, "you don't like any tea?" He was still smiled at me, hinting that he was only messing with me.

"I just love tea, iced, warm, green, herbal, you name it!" Angela giggled, listing off her stupid things she had in common with Mr. Tea Drinker.

Dad sat in his recliner, grasping the hang of rocking it with his metal feet, listening to our conversation, happy to have legs again.

"Anyway, how do you know Matthew? Co-worker?" Mom asked curiously, sparking the dreaded explanation. Lewis and I made eye contact, mentally preparing the painful confession.

Are you ready for this, Lewis?

"We're going to be great, don't you worry." he replied telepathically.

"We met on the train a couple of weeks ago," he began.

Angela gasped.

Oh no.

"The telepathy thing!" She exclaimed.

Lewis placed his hand on my knee, his eyes weary from my obnoxious sister.

Mom's eyes widened, she must know about the soulmate telepathy thing, "oh," her eyes trailed to Lewis' hand on my knee, "so you're bisexual then?"

Lewis nodded towards me, "it's okay. Don't be afraid."

"No," I said firmly, "to be bisexual, I'd have to be attracted to women and men. However, I am attracted to women but I am not interested in men. I've searched the term up, I'm actually a demisexual."

Dad squinted at me, "what the hell does that mean?"

Lewis interrupted, knowing that I was having too much trouble coming out, "it means that Matthew is only attracted to a person that he is in a romantic relationship," he simplified to Dad.

"You're dating then?" Mom placed her hands over her heart.

"Well," Lewis hesitated.

"Yes." I said confidently.

Lewis turned to me, surprised, "we are?"

I nodded, smiling at him. I gently settled my hand on Lewis' knee, like he did to mine, "Mom, Dad, Angela, this is my soulmate and boyfriend, Lewis Davis."

Mom's eyes filled with tears, she covered her mouth. Dad stared at his wife.

Please don't be disappointed. Please don't be disgusted with me.

"I understand if this is disappointing-" I try to explain.

"Disappointing?" Mom choked up, "honey, I'm so happy for you," she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Wait, really?" I asked slightly reassured.

Dad stopped rocking, his eyes gazed at Lewis, "I don't know him well, but he sounds more interesting than some Manhattan broad," he crowed.

Lewis and I snickered, looking at each other.

"It'd be nice to have a cooler brother anyway," Angela rolled her eyes.

Lewis patted my back, "congratulations, Matthew, you have some hell of a family," he whispered happily in my ear.

What I thought was going to be a bad day turned to be a good day.

Thanks Lewis.