She told me it was like a thick fog. Orphan clouds that will never see the world from above. The way she described her blindness was like taking the next step in hope it doesn't lead you off the cliff.
Sheย ย saw the world through her hands. Her touch gave her the canvas, while her mind was the paint brush. Yet, she wanted to see it all. Surgery was the only option.
My Past Self Asked: "What didn't you know back then?"
My Present Self Answered: "I know now that love hurts as much as it heals. I made a
๐ast
๐eassurance
๐pening
๐emories
๐ntroducing
๐timulated
๐xpectations
to be there for her eye surgery. I'll be the first face she sees, but I wasn't there for her. So she only saw herself.......... she only saw the world without me in it."