I used to be able to live. I used to be able to swim in the crystal blue ocean. Feel the water slide across my face and the waves gently jostling me. I used to be able to run through the fields, feel the grass tickling my toes and the breeze caressing my hair. I remember the time when I went to my first recital. When I used to be able to dance and feel hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at me with awe. I wish I could feel the pavement sliding out from underneath my feet as I ran and made the winning basket. I wish I could feel a pencil, the hard rough edges kissing the sides of my thumb and finger as it glided across the paper; when I used to be able to draw. I remember the feel of the peeling paint on my window against my hands, when I used to be able to sneak out. I wish I could remember the feel of music vibrating though my body as I danced the night away. I wish I had those memories back. I wish I didn’t remember the feel of that 6th or 7th drink slithering down my throat, when I used to be able to hold a bottle to my lips. I wish I didn’t remember the feel of the cool leather seats against my bare shoulders or the hard smooth feel of the steering wheel between my palms, when I used to be able to drive. I wish I didn’t remember the feel of my head slamming against the steering wheel or my body flying forwards onto the dashboard after I hit that tree. I wish I didn’t remember the fact that I’m sitting in a wheelchair, that for the rest of my life all I would be able to feel is the hard black plastic enveloping me. I think I'm living now; but a life without feeling.