The darkness is engulfing, terrifying. There is only black. Even when I open my eyes, there is nothing but inky darkness. I have learned to "see" in a way. I can sense when I am near objects and people. I no longer trip. I dance my way through the obstacles. But still. I stare at nothing, /see/ nothing, only darkness.
It is painful to think what I can't see. I can't see the kids smiles. How their faces light up when they see me dance. How they smile and laugh, and sing along to the songs. When they leave, and we must go back underground, I think about it. I try to imagine their beaming faces. And when I am alone, I think, dream about being able to see them.
It makes me almost sick to think that I have never seen /her/. My love, my partner, my boss too. I have felt her touch, heard her voice, her laugh. I have tasted her, kissed her too many times to count, but my eyes do not, can not see her.
She has described herself as my hands explored her. I can imagine what she looks like perfectly. Pigtails, blushing cheeks, smiling lips, every chubby curve displayed in my minds eye. I can tell her my childish fears. How the dark scares me. How I wish I could see her. She laughs it off. Giving me little gifts to chase away the nightmares. Kissing away the tears when it becomes too much, the dark too overwhelming. When the nightmares are too terrifying for me to sleep alone. And she doesn't mind at all, not when I cry, not when I wake her up, either with my screaming or my frantic attempts to wake her.
She has taught me to tolerate the darkness, even like it sometimes. When we are alone, when I have her all to myself. In a room where no one can interrupt us, and we are alone in the dark.
She is like a rock. Something for me to catch onto, to hold tight. Something that I never want to let go. Thats why she is mine. That's why I love her. Because she, is my light in the dark.