I Hope She Rejects Me

I’m in love and I hope it doesn’t work out. I’d rather have my heart broken than have my illusions shattered. I don’t want to ever know her well enough to see her imperfections, her faults. I don’t want to ever hear indiscreet sounds emanating from her body. I don’t want to see her tired pale face in the morning, blotchy and void of makeup.

I don’t think I could handle it.

I’m shallow, ok? I know that I’m shallow. It’s a problem but not the only problem I have. I’m losing my sight and my hearing. Both. It’s a disturbing trend and it’s made me rather edgy.

I’ve been snapping at Bella and I’m pretty sure I’ll drive her away. I was ready to propose when I got my diagnosis. Marriage and illness at the same time would have been too much for me. I “picked” illness.

I’m hoping, a year from now, when I can neither see nor hear, Bella will return to me. She will be incapable of offending my eyes or ears. I will be grateful because I could never understand what she ever saw in me, much less so in my diminished state.

When my senses fail me, I think I’ll be a better person. Maybe Bella will understand. People compensate for lost senses. When that day comes, old Roy may no longer be able to see or hear, but I’ll compensate with an enhanced ability to feel and to love.