For twenty years, I built a picture of my husband in my mind. I imagined the curve of his smile, the color of his eyes, the way light might catch in his hair. I constructed him from touch and tone and breath against my cheek. The day I finally saw his face was the day I realized the foundation of our life had a crack running straight through it. I lost my sight when I was eight. It began as a childish dare on a playground. I was on the swings, pushing myself higher and higher because I loved that...
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