[bloody kisses]: 558.Be Still My Fast Beating Heart.Sweet Little Victoriea

The young girl looked up at her grandpa with wide eyes. His last story had such an impact for a 4 and a half year old girl, at least to her. “Grammpah, why do you wear glasses?” She asked for the billionth time. At her inquisition the old man chuckled and finished wiping them off, like he did at the end of every story, and placed them snug back on his face.

“No hunni pie, I think it’s time for bed.” He glanced at her mother and she shook her head, encouraging him to continue, like she did every Friday night. With the girl’s father’s death, the old man’s son, grandpa was all the little girl had. And she loved him with all she had, and showed it in her eyes now, pressing on.

“Well of course, to see your cute little face young one!” He laughed and chucked her chin up.

“No no no no no no no no no!” She whined, but she was giggling. “The real story!”

“Well in that case…” To build tension, as he was always great at, he took his glasses off to swipe them over once more, and the little girl grew even more impatient.

“Grammpah!”

“Yes, yes, I’m working on it.” The girl’s eyes were starting to hang and her head began to drip. She was so tired she hadn’t even noticed her mother step behind her to pick her up and place her on her grandpa’s lap. He cradled her to his chest and placed her head below his chin, letting it rest upon the top of her head.

“I’m not tired.” She pouted, but she didn’t fight. “Tell me!”

He let out his grand laugh and she began nodding into her slumber as the vibrations tickled her. “Without my all seeing lenses, I cannot see how you grow up so nicely. I would not be able to pick your face out from another’s, and you wouldn’t like me favoring another girlie now would you?” It was directed to her, but he went on anyways, not expecting an answer from the tired bundle on his lap. “Without my glasses, everything is fuzzy, and uncorrected. I always preferred that look before, wishing very much that I could go blind. Until I saw you with all my sight and I needed to see you forever. You look just like your father, young one, and just like my passed wife. You remind me of all that I’ve ever had, and all I have to look forward to now.

“There was a man who wished he was blind for the longest time, so that he could not see the world as cold as it was. He believed that not being able to see it would make it all go away. This man was a writer and with his words he formed poetry which no one could match, he wrote about life and how it could be, rather than how it must be. He was a Romantic. As he grew older he met the woman of his dreams, and he couldn’t bear not to see her, and he never let her out of his sight.” He grinned at the little girl’s mother, indicating her entrance into her husband’s life. “Then one day it became a choice, to either live in a world that is wrong in all ways with the one light that could make it all seem right, or choose deception and denial and fall into oblivion at his own choice. This man never knew of the great bundle of light that would have been placed in his arms nine months later if he had chosen the first option.”

And in the first time since he’d told that story, he added one last sentence. “Little did he know that the bundle would have been his world, and would have been his favorite character to write. We know this now, because he dreamed about her, and wrote of her in secret. Her name was…” And the little girl gasped, going wide eyed once more at the realization of the reality in the story.

[8/16/08]