Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I am colorblind
    Coffee black and egg white
    Pull me out from inside
    I am ready, I am ready, I am ready
    I am...

    Taffy stuck and tongue tied
    Stuttered, shook, and uptight
    Pull me out from inside
    I am ready, I am ready, I am ready
    I am...fine

    I am covered in skin
    No one gets to come in
    Pull me out from inside
    I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
    I am…colorblind

    Coffee black and egg white
    Pull me out from inside
    I am ready, I am ready, I am ready
    I am...fine
    I am.... fine
    I am fine

    - By Adam Duritz, Counting Crows, "Color Bind"
    All those months of waiting, and wandering, thinking about what it would be like, dreaming about being with her, and now I was finally going to see if what we both felt was real. She’d made it very clear that she was just as curious about it as I was. She, too, felt what I’d been feeling, and wanted to find out if there was anything really there.

    I was still on kind of a high from the convention when she arrived at Billy’s place a couple of days later. She had had to go back to Pittsburgh to take care of some things there, then made her way down to meet me in Maryland. She got to see where I lived – down in Billy’s basement, which was not a finished basement. I had my dark, antique walnut bedroom set from the 1800’s set up in the far corner, opposite the old furnace on the other side, and just past the laundry area. I liked it down there – it was peaceful, a great place to hide away. I did a lot of writing there.

    She was ready to go, so we loaded up her car and hit the road for the Maryland shore.
  • It all seemed so perfect the first day or so. We were enjoying each other’s company on the long drive to the shore (about 2 ½ hours, with plenty of traffic). At one point, after crossing a bridge over a large tidal river, we spied a nice looking beach just beyond the bridge, and decided to take a break from the traffic and go for a swim. It was very hot out. We had the beach to ourselves, and as we swam around in the water, we came together and made love for the first time.

    It felt a little unreal to me, like I was in a dream, like it was all too good to be true. I still couldn’t believe I was with this girl that I had wanted from the first moment I saw her, speaking at that event in Allentown over a year before. It felt like this was about as close to heaven as I was ever going to get. It probably was

    We had a lovely time our first day at the shore, eating fresh Maryland crabs, walking the boardwalk hand in hand, eating cotton candy, and riding the rides. We rented a couple of bikes and rode all the way up to Rehobeth Beach and back, then just hung out on the beach. The first day was idyllic and perfect.

    The second day, I started feeling a sense of unease, which I had no idea where it came from, but I just felt like I was in the middle of this beautiful scene, but something was missing from it – me! I just didn’t feel like I was all in it. Everything on the outside was close to perfection, but on the inside, I was feeling like I didn’t deserve any of this, like I didn’t belong here, I was a fish out of water.

    Then, a strange fear began to creep in. We were riding a Pirate Ship ride on the boardwalk, that swung back and forth, where you went way up in the air, and threw your hands in the air as you looked down at the ground way below. I normally loved that ride, but this time, I began to feel a great fear of falling. I was trying to keep acting like everything was cool, but it wasn’t, and she picked up on it. She wanted to know what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong – I’m fine.” You don’t seem fine. “I don’t know – it’s just weird – I can’t explain it.” I really didn’t want to talk about it. I was hoping it would just go away. We’d been having such a good time. But, it didn’t. So I told her what was going on. “That’s so weird – I’ve been feeling something like that, too.”
  • We’d had all those months to think and dream about what this would be like, but now that it was here, it had an unreal quality to it. The reality simply could not live up to our fantasies about being together. We’d been in love with the ideas of each other, but in the stark light of day, neither of us matched up to the ideal image we’d created of each other, and we were both feeling the crash of reality on our little dream of being together. Plus, I was finally crashing from the high I’d been on from the convention the week before.

    We decided not to push or force anything. We’d go back to our lives, and if anything more was meant to happen, it would. We just cooled it with each other the rest of the time there, and the ride back to Billy’s place was a long, awkward ride. I couldn’t wait to get away from her - I sensed she felt the same way, but we both bent over backwards to be nice to each other. Talk about uncomfortable!

    It was a hard reality check to take. Once again, I had built something up so big in my mind, and when it finally happened, reality never stood a chance, compared to my imagination. I finished my “crash” from the convention high and the first couple of days, where it had all seemed so right, and I slowly sunk into a little depression.

    It was the middle of the hot, humid summer in Washington, D.C., and I found myself sinking lower and lower. Once again, it seemed that love had teased me, then left me high and dry. I didn’t know where to go from there.

    The one thing I knew for sure – I was no longer feeling like this was heaven.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.