CHRIS
Once Emily and I finally became “official,” all my insecurities melted away. I stopped watching for signs that she didn’t want to be with me. At long last I could let my guard down and accept that this incredible woman, who was so beautiful inside and out, was into me.
But I still had one last hill to climb: I had not told her I loved her, even though I really wanted to. I’d never felt this way about anyone before. I was completely head over heels for her, and my feelings only grew stronger each time we were together. I could have told her I was falling in love with her two weeks after we first met. But telling a girl you are falling in love with her two weeks into a relationship is not usually a good move. If I blurted the words out too soon, I was sure I’d scare her away.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Even though I could not wait to tell Emily that I loved her, part of me could not bring myself to do it. I’d never said these words to a girl before. I took them too seriously to blurt them out to just anyone. When I told a girl I loved her, I wanted that girl to be “the one.” How could I know that Emily was the one after only eight weeks, much less two weeks? Before I met her, I’d have told you that the very idea was crazy. Now I only knew I was crazy about her, and I wanted to tell her how I felt. I didn’t know exactly what the right timing was, so I kept the words to myself week after week until the words were bubbling up inside me. I didn’t think I could hold them in much longer.
That weekend, Emily came to Luther College to hang out with me like she did most weekends. We went out with some of my friends that Saturday night, then came back to my dorm cluster (which is like a living room connected to six rooms) to watch a movie or talk or something. It kept getting later and later, but neither of us wanted to call it a night. Everyone else went to their rooms and were now sound asleep. I couldn’t think of sleep. When we got back to the dorm, a friend had transferred me to the couch and reclined the seat back. So Emily and I sat back together, my arm around her, her head on my shoulder. For hours we just sat and talked. By now it was 3:00 a.m. The words “I love you,” kept bouncing around in my head, but I told myself that the timing was all wrong. It was too late at night and too early in our relationship to make a big declaration. But my heart wouldn’t listen. It told me this was the moment I’d been waiting for.
My heart pounded as I cleared my throat. I had no idea if she felt the same way about me that I did about her. There was a good chance she didn’t, not yet at least. I knew she’d say something back. Emily is so honest that she’ll tell you exactly what she thinks. I didn’t know what I would say if she rejected me. I also didn’t know how I could keep these words to myself.
“I know this is crazy,” I whispered. “It’s probably way too early to say this, and you may not be quite there yet, but . . . I love you.”
EMILY
Chris’s words hung in the air. I could not speak. I wanted to answer him and not leave him hanging, but I didn’t know how to respond. I knew what was in my heart, but how could I put that into words? Were my feelings truly love?
This would not be my first time saying I love you. I had told myself I wouldn’t say it again until I was sure that it was true love. But we’d only known each other for two months. Is that really enough time to know if you love someone? Chris sure seemed to know. Did I?
I sat there, not saying a word, as all these thoughts ran through my head. Silence is not what a guy expects when he says I love you. I had to say something before this became even more awkward.
“Honestly,” I said, then paused. “. . . I’m just not sure how to respond.” Okay, so that probably didn’t help, but I couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So, I’m definitely falling for you,” I reassured him. “You’re the strongest, most positive person I’ve ever met. I feel like you’ve already made me a better person just from my being around you.”
Chris didn’t say anything. He was probably wondering where I was going with this. I was kind of wondering the same thing. I’m a verbal processor, so I had to talk this out to figure it out. That’s not the most romantic way to answer someone who had just poured their heart out to you, but it’s what I needed.
“I miss you when I’m not with you,” I continued, “and I never want to leave when it’s time for me to go home. I can picture our future together, and I know that as long as I have you, everything’s going to be okay no matter what happens.”
Then it hit me. Whatever I’ve said to anyone else, and how early it was in our relationship—none of that mattered. My voice caught in my throat as I realized that everything I wanted was right there with me.
“You know what, Chris? I love you too.”
His face was a mixture of relief and joy. “You do?”
“I really do.”
He didn’t have to ask me to kiss him this time. I drew him close to me and pressed his lips against mine. This was exactly how I wanted to spend every moment for the rest of my life.
And then I had to drive three hours back to Iowa State. After Chris and I declared our love for one another, the drive seemed longer than ever. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. It’s just too far. Then it hit me: what if I transferred to Luther College so we could be together all the time? People transfer from one school to another all the time. It couldn’t be that big of a deal.
When I arrived back at my apartment, I quickly hopped on Luther College’s website, looking for a major that was close to my current major of family services. I’d spent a lot of time and gone through a lot of majors—journalism, psychology and adult, child and family services—before I found one that was exactly right for me. I wanted something that would lead to helping teenagers in a group home or foster care setting, but not every college has that. As it turned out, Luther College was one of those colleges. They didn’t offer anything even close.
I was disappointed, but I wasn’t ready to give up. Being closer to Chris was so appealing that I continued my search. I wanted to find another state school close to Decorah that also happened to offer the perfect major.
On a whim I Googled the first state school I thought of—The University of Northern Iowa. At an hour and a half away from Luther College, it wasn’t exactly right next door, but I’d only have to drive half as far as I did from Iowa State. I scrolled through their list of majors and found one in family services. Perfect, I thought. But before I could click on it, I noticed something in a completely different field that was intriguing to me. If I went to UNI, I’d have the chance to also major in video production. I’d always been interested in capturing people’s stories on camera and sharing them with others who could relate or learn from what the person went through. That summer I’d even done a talk show through school, helping people share their stories.
The more I researched UNI, the more I realized that this was the perfect solution to my problem. It was close enough to make visiting Chris a lot easier, without me giving up on any of my dreams or callings I knew God had on my life. I called the school, and an admissions counselor helped me go through my credits to figure out what would transfer and how far behind I would be. It turned out I had more than enough credits to put me on track for early graduation. I’d be done after just a spring semester and summer internship—or if I wanted to pursue the video production double major, I’d have to take classes the following fall semester as well.
Chris was obviously ecstatic that I was looking into transferring, and once my parents understood that transferring wouldn’t mean adding extra semesters and tuition payments, they were totally on board. The thought of leaving Iowa State was hard, but any sadness I felt evaporated as soon as I talked to Chris. I couldn’t wait to be closer to him.
CHRIS
I was so excited when Emily told me she was thinking of transferring to UNI, though it wouldn’t necessarily mean we would get to see each other more often. I knew it was still a hike to get from Cedar Falls to Decorah, but the thought of easing the burden on Emily was a huge relief to me.
I hated that I could never drive to see her or drive her around. In my mind, that’s something a guy should do for his girlfriend. It wasn’t fair that she had to drive so much for us to see each other.
Emily ended up deciding to take the leap and transfer that spring semester. It turned out to be even better than I thought. My buddy Tanner’s girlfriend, Taisha, went to UNI too, so she and Emily became roommates. Not only did that give her an instant friend, but it also took the pressure off Emily to constantly drive to Luther. When Tanner drove down to visit Taisha, I’d ride with him, and Emily and Taisha carpooled up to Luther as often as they could.
While that was one worry taken off my plate, I still struggled to let Emily see how much help I actually needed. Getting emotionally vulnerable with her was hard enough. My injury meant I had a whole other level of vulnerability that most people never experience. I didn’t want to ask her for help with all the little things that most people can easily do for themselves, like sitting on the couch or changing my shirt or putting on deodorant. Then there was the issue of my urinary leg bag. The idea of asking this girl who I found incredibly attractive to drain my leg bag terrified me. What if she realized how much work I was and decided it was too much?
The more Emily came around, the more she tried to put my fears at ease. Whenever I needed help with something, I usually asked one of my friends, but Emily always jumped at the chance to learn how to help me.
“You don’t know what you’re volunteering for,” I said. “You have no idea how much help I need for the smallest things.”
“I honestly don’t care about that,” she told me. “Just tell me how I can help. If you want me to ask one of your friends, I will, but I really do want to help you.”
EMILY
Before I transferred to UNI, I had this crazy dream of getting Chris on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, a show we both love. The next best thing was going to see a taping of the show in person. Deep down I hoped that if we could get into the studio, one of the producers might ask us about Chris’s story and we’d go from being a part of the audience to appearing on her show. I know it was a crazy dream, but I’ve always dreamed big.
I applied to get tickets to the show, and Chris loved the idea. But I did not breathe a word to him about trying to get him on the show. I secretly made a video for Ellen with the story of Chris’s injury and how he’d used his experience to help other people. The video included interviews I did with his parents and friends. I then sent the video off to the show’s producers, brought extra copies to secretly give to someone on the show at the taping, and prayed the right people would see it.
CHRIS
I couldn’t believe we actually got tickets to The Ellen DeGeneres Show. We were both such big fans. The person who called me said we’d see Ellen on February 4 and that they were ready and able to accommodate my wheelchair.
The show tapes in Los Angeles, which obviously meant we’d have to travel there. At first I couldn’t wait. A trip to California when it’s the dead of winter in Iowa? Sign me up.
Then it hit me.
Everything I was afraid to let Emily do—the transfers, getting me ready, draining my leg bag—I would have no choice but to have her help me with all of it, because there would be no one else to do it. Taking a trip together is a big step in any relationship. For us it would be a giant leap.
Getting ready for the trip meant tons of planning. We had to call the airline and let them know we needed assistance. Once we arrived we would have to arrange for a wheelchair-accessible vehicle to pick us up at Los Angeles International Airport and take us to our hotel. We also found an app that allowed us to reserve a wheelchair-accessible vehicle whenever we needed to get around the city. These were the easy arrangements to make. Emily also had to take a crash course on how to do all the things for me that I couldn’t do for myself. For better or worse, we were about to find out what it would really be like to handle life together.
EMILY
I wasn’t nervous about helping Chris and being responsible for everything. What terrified me was transferring him in and out of his chair. Up until now Chris had had his friends do it for him, since they were already around. I had no idea how to lift him out of his wheelchair and move him to a stationary seat or a car until literally right before we left. A couple of his friends showed me how to lean his shoulders against mine and position my hands around his hips so I could lift him out of his chair.
“You guys, I don’t know if I can do this,” I said as I tried it the first time. My heart pounded as I realized I didn’t have a choice. No one else was coming with us to L.A. Everything was on me. “What if I make him fall? I’m going to hurt him! This is going to be awful,” I said to his friends.
His friends assured me I would be fine, but my stomach was in knots as we drove to the airport. What if this whole trip was a huge mistake? I prepared myself for disaster.
I took a deep breath as we made our way into the airport. After checking in I pushed Chris over to the security line. Getting through security is never pleasant, and when I saw a TSA agent approach us, I thought for sure we were in trouble. Instead, he said, “You two can head up to the front of the line.” He led us past the line of travelers snaking through the terminal, and within seconds we were at the front and going through security. Wow, I thought. This is already going better than I thought.
Chris looked up at me as we walked past coffee shops and bookstores. “It’s going to be fine, Em. They do this every day.”
We checked in with the gate agent and learned we could board early. I thought for sure I’d have to transfer him to his seat, but instead, airport attendants transferred him to a small chair that easily fit down the plane aisle and then lifted him into his seat. I’d been so nervous, but the whole morning went pretty smoothly.
I breathed a sigh of relief as our plane roared down the runway and lifted into the air. I took Chris’s hand. “We did it!” I said with a grin. “I can’t believe we really get to do this.”
“I’m so excited to go to L.A. with you,” he smiled back.
Once we’d reached our cruising altitude, a flight attendant rolled the beverage cart up to us. “Would you like a beverage, ma’am?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll take a water,” I said.
“What about him?” The flight attendant gestured at Chris and looked at me. “Can he have something to drink?”
I nearly lost it. I could not believe that someone in this day and age who is allegedly trained to work with people could be so dismissive of someone simply because of his disability. “He can talk, you know. You can just ask him yourself,” I snapped at her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“You can’t automatically assume that he can’t speak just because he’s in a wheelchair.” I could feel my face getting red as I sputtered in anger. Chris raised his hand to stop me, but I kept going. “There’s nothing wrong with his mind. Just because someone’s in a wheelchair doesn’t mean they’re not mentally all there.”
“Of course. Of course. You’re right. I’m so sorry,” the flight attendant apologized. She couldn’t get away from us fast enough. Chris turned his head toward me when she was gone.
“Emily, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “People make assumptions, but you can’t get upset about it. I learned a long time ago to just let it go. It’s okay.”
But I couldn’t let it go. I talked for the rest of the flight about how ridiculous the flight attendant’s actions were. I was so upset that I forgot to be nervous about getting through LAX and finding an accessible taxi to get to our hotel.
Aside from the rude flight attendant, the rest of our trip was amazing. Watching the live taping of The Ellen DeGeneres Show was so much fun. At the beginning of each show, she dances up and down the aisles with the audience. That day, she came right up to Chris and danced with him. I did hand one of the tapes I’d made to her staff worker on the set. We got a casting interview the next week but nothing else came of it. While Chris may not have shared his story on her show, it was a trip we will always remember.
The wheelchair-accessible van app made it easy for us to get around L.A., and we took full advantage. We ate dinner at a trendy restaurant and talked for hours. But when our phones died and we couldn’t use the app to get picked up, we walked a mile to a gas station to buy a charger. We enjoyed the adventure. Our hotel had an outdoor fire pit, where we stayed together under the stars, talking about life and our future.
Helping Chris with his day-to-day needs was a lot easier than either of us anticipated. I know he was nervous about letting me drain his leg bag or getting him ready in the morning, but I loved him so much that it didn’t bother me. Thankfully, I never once dropped him while transferring him in and out of his wheelchair. We realized not only that we could travel together but also that we could do anything as long as we had each other. Those days in L.A. gave us confidence that the chair couldn’t hold us back from anything, and “anything” was about to get much bigger than either of us could have ever dreamed.