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Soundless love
Stop doubting whether it’s actually “okay” to say it or not. I know it, and she knows it, and I know What you’re afraid to say. When she gave me that embarrassed look and finally asked “how could you love a blind man?” “You say that like money makes a man more attractive. Anne, you say that like you’d have never married Trevor had he been three inches shorter. Don’t ask me how I can love him. If you couldn’t love me if as a cripple then you never loved me. You don’t know what love is.” She thought he saw less than the average guy; it was just the opposite. His fingers once ran down the side of my face just like the cold rain in Seattle would. He held my in a loving way, and his touch was tender as if to tell never to let go. He wanted to see me. His want had given him more sight than any other shallow soul with eyes. Their sight would graze across my face and there was nothing more. I felt him. To Anne he could only hear, but to me he was the only one who could truly feel. I knew he loved me; he’d drop his white cane and we’d walk together. We’d here the same sounds with the cold wind running across the both of us.
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