“I was constantly worried that something might happen while I was at work,” he said.
“So you started treating me like I couldn’t do anything on my own?”
He nodded slowly.
“I know you’ve learned to handle a lot of things on your own. But I still worried.”
He explained that he was not sleeping well and had difficulty concentrating at work.
When he returned home, he often felt overwhelmed.
Then little things irritated him.
And then he felt guilty for losing his patience.
“I spent hours thinking about how unfairly I treated you,” he admitted.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything about this?”
“Because I didn’t want you to believe that your blindness ruined my life.”
I shook my head.
“But that’s what I started to believe.”
His eyes glazed over.
“Every time you sighed when I asked for something, I felt guilty. Every time you got angry, I wondered if you still loved me.”
