The night before my eighteenth birthday I broke my leg. Bad. It required multiple surgeries and I still have a plate and screws in it to this day. Anyway, my birthday came and went, and for the next few weeks I was at laid out on my parent’s couch. I was on heavy painkillers and not able to move around much. I’d been chatting with this girl online who lived a few states away. When she found out that I’d broken my leg she...