Deaf Hearts

Whoever convinced me to join the gym needs to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Or, at the very least, suffer with a pillow hot on both sides every night, because this? This is terrible.

Running? No thank you.

Lifting? Who needs biceps anyway.

Now, I will say the eye-candy is nice. Especially my new personal trainer with the tattoos and dimples. But that’s all he can ever be: eye candy.

Because he’s fit and I’m not.

He’s gorgeous and I’m, well, me.

He’s hearing…and I’m Deaf.

For some people that might not be an issue, but for me, I have rules. And I’m a stubborn man who will not break them, not even for that sexy crooked smile that almost makes me forget my own name.

But I don’t date men who can’t speak my language, and while we can say plenty with our bodies, that’s where our communication ends.

Still, the longer I spend with him, the more I’m starting to realize there may be more to this relationship than frantic, feral office hook-ups. After all, he might be the first hearing person to learn sign for me. And he’s one of the first people I’ve ever known to make me feel worthy.

So maybe, just maybe, that’s worth a little compromise.