I ignored the beckoning echo of my friends laughter to sit there in peace, separated from the group, with Matthew. My bubbly friend Katie and I sat beside him, pressing our heads on the cool glass while we looked out to the dark waves around us. Behind the glass we were protected from the warm spray of the ocean. I observed how fast the ship was moving, and became sad as I realized my team here was coming to a bittersweet close. I pitied myself because I had to return home from my vacation soon. But unlike the rest of our group, I tried to never pity Matthew.

“I feel bad for the guy….did you see him fall out of his chair the other night?”
“Yeah, we need to hang out with him more. Maybe he’ll feel better.”
I spoke up, “That’s just a pity invite guys. Matthew is really cool. We should hang out with him, get to know him. No need for special treatment.”

Matthew was a regular guy. He brought light and laughter to the teen club we occupied for the week. His wheelchair restricted him constantly, and even before talking to him I realized he was getting in his head. Insecure about what makes him different.

One night, our club traveled across the broad ship to take over the kids club. It was late, I was exhausted mentally from the nonstop activity on the cruise ship. The teen club was enjoying a game on the giant light up dance floor in the middle of the club. We were joking, laughing, stomping on the floor. Until Matthew tried to join. He attempted to roll up the dance floor, yet his chair got caught. He was sent backwards on to the floor, the smack of his head echoed throughout the room. We stood, starring. He shook on the ground and clasped his neck. My heart broke as I noticed the whole room was watching him. The spotlight was on Matthew as he got help. He became surrounded by curious teens. The spotlight was on Matthew. I could see the embarrassment and anger on his face. A simple task was made impossible for him.

As I said before, Katie disappeared. She was gone too long for it to be a bathroom trip. My group of giggling friends became curious, so I went to search for her. The second I saw Matthew’s chair I knew where she was, I knew instantly what was going on.

I put a hand on Matthew’s back as I plopped down beside him. I began with small talk, he never looked up from the ocean. I glanced over at Katie, her eyes told me to watch what I say, Matthew is fragile after all. I hated that.
“How’s the trip going Matthew?” I asked softly.

“I just want to be off this ship.” Matthew sighed. I noticed he wasn’t looking at the ocean anymore, he was looking at his legs. As he told me about his life, I read the anger of being restricted on his face. He told us of his thought of suicide, and how hard being in a wheelchair really was.
“Matthew, I don’t know how to say this without coming off the wrong way. But I don’t pity you. You’re just like us in every way. Any one off of this ship is probably madly jealous of you! Look where you are! Look at the people you get to meet, food you get to eat! Girls you get to hang out with!” I elbowed Matthew in the side, and his face began to relax. “You’re so strong. I can’t say I could ever understand what you have gone through. I can’t even imagine how hard your life can be at times. But you have so many reasons to live on. So many things to experience. It may be a bit hard for you at times, but from adversity you grow.” I continued on.

We spoke on for awhile, laughing about the trip and talking about our common interests. Matthew smiled brighter now, and I wished for his sake he could stay like that forever.

He began tired, and after our talk he eventually left to bed. I sat alone with Katie, she was wiping a tear from her eye.

“Katie, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m great. You’re amazing, really amazing.” I realized what I said to Matthew could have been the most positive thing he’s heard in awhile. Surrounded by luxury, he felt alone. And from that day on we made sure he wasn’t again.