Love in a Wheel Chair
Russian woman: If you want to meet your true match online - simply be honest
By Maria (St. Petersburg)
Who knows why fate chose to bring this episode into my life the episode, which was more like a nightmare than a simple truth. Maybe because I sent my picture with a story to one foreign dating agency? But I was dreaming of quite the opposite. Let me tell you this story.
One day I received a letter from an English gentleman who liked the picture in my profile. That was the beginning of our correspondence. He wrote that he retired from the army, traveled around the world a lot, and that he was fifty-eight years old. Perfect age! After that he began sending me some small packages with clothes and lingerie. Oh, by the way, the lingerie was of all possible sizes, so all my female friends of different shapes got their present from this generous man. I also got my share of nice couple pieces but all this was just a pleasant prelude to upcoming events.
Past two months of our correspondence Peter, that's the name of our hero, made a decision to come over to my native city of Saint Petersburg. For the record, there was no invitation from my side but this fact did not confuse him. Later I got another letter from him. He mentioned he had some temporary problems with his legs which shouldn't be any inconvenience and everything would be OK. My thoughts were if a man decided to make such a long trip, than his health problems were not that big or will be solved with time.
On a first day of spring my friend Svetka and I went to an airport
to meet my potential fiancé. No need to say how we prepared for
that event, we just looked the best! The airplane from London already
landed and people began to go out. There was no man who would match
the picture we had. When all the passengers from that flight left we
saw a man in a wheel chair, accompanied by the airport assistants. As
you may have guessed already, that was my guest. I was shocked. I could
not move. I could not say a word. My friend got back first and punched
in a side. Finally, in a strange low voice I whispered-
It was late night by that time. Peter settled in his hotel room and my friend and I took off.
Peter got me some presents- perfumes, lingerie and a warm coat. The bottle of wine I had with my friend Svetka, not Peter. When the spirit brought relaxing stream in blood we burst with hysterical laughter.
Couple of my friends had an office at the same hotel where Peter was staying. And as he was not able to move around all on his own, we took turns to look after him, bringing him breakfasts, lunches and dinners. My friends were shocked not less than I was, and they could not understand why he made that trip. Meanwhile, our guest was staying in bed all the time, reading the book or eating the served food and was looking at me with love in his eyes when I was there. He had a framed picture of me by the side of his bed. From my friends words he was looking at the picture when I was not there. It was hard for all of us to realize what he was thinking about covering that big distance being disabled and fifteen years older than he told me in his letter. This question had a simple answer. People abroad, even disable ones, don't have any complexes about their disabilities or age. Every person has a right for love and it doesn't really matter how it's expressed or presented. Those thoughts didn't bother me too much at that time. I was more concerned about his condition. Sometimes he was feeling so bad that my friends and I were really scared. Peter had another week to stay. Our plan to show him the city failed, because it would be impossible for a man in a wheel chair to move around. The only right thing to do was to exchange the tickets and leave earlier. With no problem we changed the tickets and took Peter to the airport, where airport assistants took care of a man in a wheel chair. Feeling so released with his departure I even kissed him on a cheek.
After . After he kept writing to me, asking to come and see him in London. I refused in a polite way.
No need to describe what relief and at the same time bitterness I felt when I was seeing off my fiasco fiancé.
Only hope for the better date and a good sense of humor helped me to survive and not dwell on depression.
After one year I am still wearing that coat and remember Peter only with warmth and smile.
My wise friend told me: from now on all my future dates with men will go uprising, and it is true. Now I'm dating a man, serious and independent, one-year younger than me . Though, it is going to be another story.
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