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It was my fault, I had failed her. She had needed me to see her through her problem time and I let her down.Then the self-pity hit. I was less than a man. I couldn't please a woman. I couldn't perform. Of course she didn't want me, what woman would? I could have lost an arm or leg and still felt more complete.As I tried to sleep I slipped further into depression. Everything I could think of left me further down. I think I must have slept because I think I dreamt. I saw my students standing around laughing about poor old Kev who couldn't get it up. I saw Erica and her lover giggling about how much she'd missed a real man. I saw Erica explaining to my son's how their limp dicked father had let her down in her hour of need.When morning came I found it difficult to pull myself out of bed. I made coffee but didn't feel like eating. I called the college and told them I was sick then just sat around the house. I wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. It was afternoon before I could. He nodded.“Yes,” he said.****She was in Phoenix again. She wondered if her used to be man was still around and living in that fancy guest house of the Cords. It had been a long time since she’d seen him. She’d been to this particular VFW just once since returning from Prescott where she’d most recently been living. Well, a VFW was a VFW in Prescott or Tucson or Phoenix they all seemed kind of alike, and for a vet like herself they were good. She remembered the early days back in Tucson. She and the man did good there. The early days: before she’d gotten her sight back, before she’d dumped him, before she’d married the wrong guy. And now the wrong guy had dumped her, and she was alone and wondering if she could indeed have made a life with the good guy with the truly ugly face and who was likewise wheelchair bound.The man at the bar looked familiar. He was just standing there talking to the bartender. It was his hair. He sure looked familiar. He stepped away from the bar with his.
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