The room was dark, only the glow of my computer screen illuminating the space. I sat at my desk, fingers poised over the keyboard, as the robotic voice of my screen reader announced a message from Colin.
“Message from Colin: I love that author. One winter, I read nearly ten of his books. ‘Love is War’ is my favorite. What about you?”
I smiled, responding, “Good choice. I might’ve picked that one, but ‘The Princess’s Favorite’ got to me. I bawled at the ending.”
We had bonded over books since meeting online, sharing favorites and thoughts late into the night. But there was something I couldn’t share—I was blind. And every time Colin asked to meet in person, I hesitated, making excuses.
Then came his latest message: “Wait, you listen to books? You love audiobooks? I can’t get into them. I need to feel the pages. Don’t you?”
His words hit harder than I expected. How could I explain that my world was different from his?
I hesitated, then dictated: “Colin, I have to confess, I’m blind. I rely on audiobooks.”
But I deleted it in a panic, quickly typing: “I just love listening to books while multitasking.”
Days later, he invited me to a movie premiere. My heart raced. I couldn’t keep hiding my blindness, but I wasn’t ready to tell him.
At the mall, I practiced the route to the theater with the help of a security guard. I was determined to make it work, but anxiety still gripped me. I had to hide the truth.
When I met Colin, I kept my sunglasses on, lying that my eyes were sensitive to light. As we entered the theater, I lost track of my steps, and panic crept in. I lied, asking him to help me get to the cinema.
During the movie, I struggled to follow the plot through sound alone. Colin pressed me about the details, but I fumbled through my responses, lying about scenes I couldn’t see.
Then, Colin confronted me. “Why are you lying? And why won’t you look at me?”
I froze, my heart sinking. I had failed him. He walked away, and I searched the theater for him, admitting to a stranger that I was blind. But Colin was gone.
Later, I felt someone sit beside me. “You’re blind, aren’t you?”
It was Colin.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, tearfully explaining my fear of losing him.
He sighed, “Lying almost did. Can we start over?”
I nodded. “No more secrets.”
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