Words like rich and decadent are maybe more popular, but I'd say bright and sickly sweet are more appropriate, the lights, the laughter, the smeared cream makeup and blood, the fear the arousal, the bursting through boundaries like melons too ripe to hold more water, the lessons and the love. It was a difficult story. Not to read it was so easy to become lost in these pages, but difficult to face as the reality of knowing just how hard these disabilities can be. The wonder of it being so accepted and normalized by partners, the joy of seeing them push beyond what is comfortable for them to make it possible for her, of being on a course and having one of your trio say *we have to change directions if we want to keep her, we have to make our lives a world built for her so she can live here with us* and then having everyone do that. It doesn't mean you can't be rough. It means you have to temper that roughness with the knowledge of the flares and rhythms of a disease that seems discordant in a world of able bodies.
I am disabled as well, and this spoke to me. Thank you for that.
I'm a survivor and this spoke to me. Thank you for that.
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