Dear Karen,

I don't know what went wrong. I never once thought that putting Fisk away would be the end, that him going to prison would make Hell's Kitchen some kind of paradise. But I never imagined this would happen. My dad used to tell me that you could do anything as long as you're not afraid. I'm terrified Karen. I'm supposed to be the man without fear; you were the first person to call me that remember? But now, everything is falling apart around me. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and it's getting harder and harder to find the will to go out there at night, to do what has to be done.

Foggy has been telling me to take it easy, to maybe take some time off from, "being a blind devil-ninja" as he puts it. But he stopped after a few days. After he realized exactly what has been happening. He's become worried. Now, you know Foggy, and for all of his jokes and stories he really does care. And he believes that he has found an answer to some of my problems.

He told me to write you a letter. I know, I don't know where he comes up with some of this stuff. And yet, I find myself here, typing away, telling you everything, and hoping it will help. I don't know if you'll ever even see this, but that would make two of us I guess.

Then again, maybe it would be better to look at how we all got here. They say that hindsight is twenty-twenty. I guess that's true, even for a blind man.

Do you remember that day; after Foggy put up the sign and told us he was going to talk to Marci? I told you that all we could do was move forward, together. When your hand touched mine, I felt the lotion you had put on forty minutes ago. I felt your body temperature increase by half a degree, and I could feel your smile. Your heart skipped a beat when we touched, what you didn't know was that mine did too. We worked together the rest of the day. I grinned like an idiot every time I realized that we had beaten Fisk, and that we still had each other. Or, was it because it was just us together?

I wasn't sure at first how long we had worked when we decided to go to lunch. Then I heard the distinctive sound of St. Brendan's bells from Eleventh Street. It was one in the afternoon. Four hours of working together, of making calls, checking old law books, researching precedence, and it had felt like a vacation. It must have showed too. I slid down the handrail on two feet when I thought you weren't watching. You must have caught me when I stuck the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

"How did you do that?" You asked. I could smell your adrenaline. You must have thought that I had fallen down the stairs or something.

"Just, feeling daring today I guess." I said, a vague excuse but I had nothing on better to defend myself with. It was stupid on my part, to risk something like that, knowing you were in earshot. Maybe a part of me wanted you to know it was me. Maybe I wanted you to look at Matt the same way you looked at Daredevil when he whisked in to save you. You gave me a look and told me not to break my neck just because I was in a good mood about Fisk being put away. The irony that Fisk had nearly broken my neck with his own hands was not lost one me, but he didn't matter anymore. When we got outside, you threaded your arm through mine to lead me, so I wouldn't have to use my cane.

No, Fisk didn't matter, what mattered was that I could feel you next to me. I could smell the soft hints of vanilla and jasmine that came from your shampoo and your perfume. My gifts always seem to make the city so loud. A construction crew with heavy machinery a block away gives me a migraine, and the sirens and pedestrians, the shouting, the cars horns blaring, music blasting, sometimes it seems like too much. But that day, all I could hear was the sound of your heartbeat. The entire city seemed to silence itself out of reverence for us that day.

How long was our lunch, or our walk back to the office, or even the rest of the day? Time is a funny thing. Everyone always seems to be checking their phones or their watches to make sure they are on time. Time to a blind person is also important, but it's also inconsequential. I could usually tell what time it was by the sound of an hour hand moving slowly on a clock, but that day, I didn't keep track of it at all. I didn't listen to the clock, or the pigeon on the opposite building, or the car that had just gotten a flat tire two blocks over or anything else, I just listened to you that day. It was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Eventually, you told me it was getting dark outside. When I acted surprised, you laughed.

"Sometimes it's hard to remember you're blind." You said. And I smiled. It's a strange feeling that I don't often get, to feel normal. But you had to leave; you told me you had something important to do. I felt the familiar sensation of getting sucker punched in the gut. I thought that you might have a date. So, being the brilliant lawyer I am, I asked you.

"No, just some errands to run." You replied. I could hear the annoyance in your voice. I mentally kicked myself, an entire day, a day without gangs or rapists or murderers, and I may have just destroyed it.

"Well, whoever doesn't ask you on a date is an idiot. It should be a crime." I responded. I could never quite tell, I was flustered myself, but I swear you blushed.

I counted the steps of your high heels as you left. You turned and said goodbye, and that you hoped all of the other days coming up would be like this. What did I tell you again? I think it was, "With you, I'm sure they will be Karen." I remember that I lingered on your name, almost as long as you lingered in the doorway.

Foggy came in as I was packing some documents in my briefcase. He said that he had run into you on the stairs, that he apologized for not showing up that day and he was going to work late to make up for it. I told him that he didn't need to tell me that, that I heard everything.

"Then you know what she told me right?"

"Yes." I responded, I bent down, pretending to pick up a dropped folder but I was really trying to hide the grin that was still on my face from where I had heard you.

"She said that you two were together all day, that she had an amazing time, and that it was the first time she had forgotten about Fisk or anything since he was put away." Foggy sounded accusatorial and was using his lawyer voice.

"If that is how she feels I'm glad."

"Matt, you know how that sounds right? It sounds like you two are…you know."

"Hm?" I played dumb, partly out of Foggy's expense, but mostly because I was afraid of him voicing my own fear.

"It sounds like you two kinda, you know, have a thing for each other."

"Foggy, Karen is an amazing woman. She deserves a guy better than me." I said simply before getting up and heading to the door.

"Matt you're already a great guy." Foggy sounded tired already, "don't you mean she deserves a guy who doesn't dress up like the Devil, parkour across Hell's Kitchen and beat up guys with two sticks and his fists?"

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Look, I want you two to be happy but, don't get her wrapped up just to dump her so you can go off and be Underdog ok?" I could sense the worry in his voice.

"Don't worry Foggy, Karen would never date a guy like me." I said simply.

Foggy actually bought it, and I tried to believe it. I can't decide which of us was blinder.

Love,

Matt