If Love Is Blind

five

A FEW WEEKS HAD passed since my Claret first met Kaden Khan, and they were inseparable now. She was not telling me all that much about it, but I knew. She kept a diary that she left opened on her bed, as if inviting me to read it because she wanted me to know but did not want it to come out of her mouth; it was something far too embarrassing to talk about to your grandfather.

They had been escaping together for a week now, and today was a special day. Today, my Claret was going to tell Kaden what she felt. My heart burnt into a crisp when I learned this through the mellow poem she wrote this morning. I caught her, and I edited it, and she did not tell me why she wrote it but I knew, and I could not have been more proud of my little girl. But I do admit, I was slighly jealous. I know she could see this, because when we were done, she crawled on my lap and laced her arms around my neck and said, "Don't worry, Grandpa, you know you're always my number one."

She left for the Khan household with the folded paper in her back pockets, ready to put her heart on the line for the first time.

She reminded me so much of Hazel, my wife. Even though I expressed my love for her first, it was her all along who taught me how to love.

I was glad I had my Claret to remind me of what love is, and I was glad I got to teach her every aspect of love, too.

BELOW THE BELOVED SYCAMORE TREE, Claret read more of Romeo & Juliet to Kaden. But, of course, Kaden cut the cake quickly.

"Can we read something else tomorrow?" he said.

Claret stared blanky, slightly confused. "You don't like it?"

"No! I love it, I do. I just feel like you need to read me something I can relate to. You know, I've never gotten married to a girl I've known for two days."

They both guffawed, and upon hearing Claret's boisterous laugh, he said, "Goodness, your laugh sounds like christmas bells."

"Is that a good thing?" She asked, rather happy and rather confused.

"Are you kidding me?" He said, "Remember when you asked me what my favorite sound was?"

Claret smiled, "Yeah?"

"I didn't answer because I didn't have one. I mean, all I have ever heard for the past five years is old people's music and my worried mum walking up and down my room," he laughed, and after a moment's pause, he said, "But now, I am sure I have one. It has to be the sound of your voice."

Oh, those silly intruding butterflies again. They were rising from her stomach all the way to her cheeks to tickle them pink. My Claret looked beautiful when she was blushing, even though she hated it. She was glad he didn't have to see her right now.

They stayed like that, holding hands and pretending like there was nothing wrong at that moment in time. His thumb caressed her knuckles lightly, feeling like everything in the world depended on him feeling her hand and nothing else. I guess he had to say it before my Claret could think of it, so he did.

"I love you, Claret," he said between a sigh, "I have fallen in love with your mind set, and the sound of your laugh. I have to say, your heart has got to be the heaviest and the sweetest thing in this Earth, and I know you hate it when I'm so literal. I know my heart does not have feelings but I can feel it. I feel this depth on my chest when you speak and that is my proof to you that I love you with all my heart."

For the first time ever, Claret knew what infatuation was. I hoped she had learned love from me, but I was so glad she could learn this different version of it through Kaden, a person who would not judge her for who she thought she was, but who she really is. I don't think I can tell you what she actually felt, but I know my Claret. I can trace through her mind and find her thoughts, regardless of how deep she had burried them. I knew she was feeling as though the world would swallow her whole, and she was feeling everything but small. I knew she was sounding off in her head about how much she had been meaning to say that to him, and realizing he had taken the words right out of the tip of her tongue. I knew my Claret, and she was not going to tell him she was in love, too.

"I wrote something for you," she said, instead, taking out the crumpled paper from her back pocket.

Kaden turned toward her voice, knowing he could not see her but expecting it to feel more real than if he were staring into nothingness like he had all this time.

"I know that you've heard about heartbreak, and that is all I have ever felt in my life before. But I suppose that to feel heartbreak you should have felt love first," she reasoned, "But you are a different kind of love. And I know that you know what it is like to feel different, and to have people look down on you because of how you look on the outside. Your heart must be scarred with heartbreak as is mine."

She gulped, knowing she had his full attention. Claret was not used to speaking this much, or saying this much about her feelings. She felt like this was the perfect time to start.

"In some way, I feel as though loving you has blinded me from seeing the things of the bloody outside world; the physical. You know, you should love the soul instead of the body," she stopped and sighed, "Well, I wrote this for you. It's called, If Love is Blind."

She cleared her throat and put the paper in front of her eyes, ready to say everything she needed to say. She was decided. She knew that she had been tied all this time because she attempted to conceal all those memories of heartbreak, so she let the knot keeping her inside lose, and said:

" 'Beware', they say, 'Be very bright, for love is blind', and I think: If Love is blind then He won't mind if you feel the writing of braille on my heart, for what you feel is far more important than what is visible to the eye. If Love is blind then He won't see the mess He makes inside of me; but I'm patient because He is so insecure and He'll leave markings on whomever touches Him to stain His path as He goes," she said with a sigh, tears brimming into her eyes.

She continued. "If blind He is and makes me too, then I must feel your heart, brave and true. Or is your heart scattered with hieroglyphics, too? Don't be scared, He won't mind your scars. Though it is He who makes them it's He who heals them, too, so they shine like shooting stars.

"I now understand why opening up is so hard. Not everyone speaks the language of the heart. Their writing doesn't burn when kissed by someone new. Their face won't pucker when they taste a love that's blue.

" 'Beware, be bright, for love is blind.' But if blind He is and we are in love? Then all my other senses will shine on me from above. And if heartache is finding the light switch to the unlit room, I'll let the darkness kiss my eyelids in hopes of a romantic doom."

And with a strong breath, she stopped, realizing that her soul was now naked. You see, it's this that is important. We understand of undressing the body and we call it love. We wait so long to uncover the body because to us, that seems like love. To understand someone and truly love them you should strip their soul. That is where the real beauty lies, virgin and patient.

When she started to cry, Kaden felt around to bring her shoulders into his chest, holding her in an embrace that made her feel like she was sixty feet up in the sky. His tears trickled down the back of her neck, and she was sure this was what being loved felt like. She was sure that this was what being accepted was like. She was sure that she would not have wanted to learn any of those feelings with someone else.

He broke the silence. "Our love is blind to the world."

Claret inhaled sharply, wiping off her tears. "That is the way it's supposed to be."