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I was born blind. All I've ever known was darkness. Life was okay for a while, my parents tried their best to make life easy for me, but like everyone they shut me out after a while too. They still let me stay with them but they more or less ignored me.
“He’s a burden,” they would whisper.
They seem to forget that even though I was blind that I wasn't deaf. I tried my best to stay out of everyones way but when I couldn’t see where they’re coming from it was pretty difficult.
Making friends was hard too, and keeping them was even harder. In my younger years, kids didn't really understand why I couldn't catch a ball thrown at me or why I read not with words but my fingers. So like anything people don't understand, they ignored it. So many people in my life only stayed for a short time, enough to have the right to say they were friends with a blind kid, making them look like a grade A citizen for befriending a charity case. Everyone always left leaving me in a dark world. All except one, he has stayed with me since kindergarten. His name is Levi, and to put it simply he’s quiet, the day I met him I probably wouldn't have even noticed he was their, but I did. When I dropped something it was gently placed back in my hand, when we walked through the halls a small hand gripped mine leading the way. No matter how long it took me to find something, or walk to a destination he would wait patiently. Never leaving my side, he wouldn't try and do things for me because he knew I hated that, but he never left. He didn't leave me in high school when the hallways got more congested, he didn't leave me when I accidentally bumped into the captain of the football team resulting in me being knocked away from him into a wall. Instead he fought for me. I couldn't see the damage done to him or the other guy but I heard the grunts, the slamming of fists against flesh, the cracking of bones. I heard it all and when it was quiet and Levi offered me his hand I didn't reach out, because I was afraid. In my mind this was a sign for me to let him go because I was putting to much on him. Still he didn't leave. Instead he roughly grabbed my wrist and softly told me “Don’t look at me like that brat, get up.” When I asked him how he knew what I was thinking he snickered and told me “I can see everything reflected in your eyes.” And that was the first time I thought my eyes were beautiful.
As years passed, he still stayed with me. At our high school graduation we got our diplomas together. When we moved into our dorm in university he diligently helped me place everything in the perfect spot. Even when I told him I was gay he didn't leave me. Even though I couldn't see his reaction on his face I knew he accepted me, because he didn't ask how I knew without even looking at the face of a girl let alone a guy. I didn't need to see the face of the person I loved, because I love him. Even though I've never seen him I love him, and I know he’s beautiful because one day when I asked him if I could touch his face to feel how he looked he just sat down and quickly snapped “make sure you wash your hands they’re filthy.” As I gently and slowly moved my hands over his features, I could feel sharp check bones, soft small lips, and soft hair long at the top then short fuzz of an undercut, and thought that it suited him perfectly. That wasn't the only thing that was beautiful about him. His voice was strong but warm. His hands were rough from fighting for me, but they always gently held mine. He was shorter than me, I knew because when we hugged his head fit perfectly under my chin. His personality was harsh and hostile but he was caring nonetheless. He was a clean freak and always yelled when I left things on the floor, but I loved all of him. Not that I ever would speak these words to him, he needed someone who could see, someone worthy of him. I knew that one day I would have let him go because he would find some girl he loved, but I would stay with him until then.
One day he took me to the ocean, he explained to me slowly and precisely what it looked like. As we sat in the sand, I could hear his soft voice and the crashing waves. I could smell water mixed with his cologne as the wind blew in my face. That’s when I wished silently that I could see this sight with him, see his face, and his hands that I loved so much. I wished I could see the world he lives in, not this dark void. I wished I could be with him forever. I wished I could wake up next to him, to kiss him, and let him depend on me for a change. When I told him that, leaving out the embarrassing parts, I could tell he smiled at me, a smile that I also wish to see, and I would.
A year later I underwent a surgery so I could regain my sight. The first thing I saw when I opened my new eyes, was Levi the one who never left me, down on one knee asking for my hand in marriage. That moment when tears blurred my vision, I mumbled a breathy “yes” and he smiled, the smile I wished to see, and I knew I was right. The man before me was beautiful, and I loved him and craziest of all he loved me. At that moment my love was no longer dark, but full of light.