It was those eyes that made that connection, even from across the packed room. They talked. They told me what she wanted. When I asked her if I could buy her a drink, her words may have lacked enthusiasm, but here eyes told a different story.
The second time I met those eyes, over a pizza, they took my breath away. The longer we talked, the more they seemed to sparkle, and the more I made her laugh, the warmer they seemed. Her eyes emitted a radiant light and yet glowed a serene beauty - all the time giving the impression that, if you looked hard enough, you could look straight through them and right into the mind of the majestic person that controlled them.
The first time we became one, her eyes never left mine - they swept past all the walls and barriers and dug into my mind, they churned up emotions that I never thought possible. I was emotionally drained and I slipped into a satisfied sleep, her eyes being the last and the first things I saw.
The celebration of matrimony was inevitable, but the question still had to be asked. As I slipped the thin gold band with a single stone onto her slender finger, I began to shake - so much at stake, I thought. The answer came, but it was too far way to be heard, so I raised my head and searched for the answer. A tear made it's way down her cheek, and all the joy and happiness in the world flowed out.
How could there be evil in the world, when those eyes looked upon it; how could any man or beast do wrong after staring into the eyes of my loved one? I do not know, but it happened.
On the day of the Awful Horror, her eyes were used as knives which tore my heart in two. While words flowed out of her mouth with the ferocity of a raging torrent, her eyes betrayed her anger and displayed her wounded emotions. While obscenities were hurled at me, her eyes did their own damage - "WHY?" they asked.
More remorse was triggered by those eyes than any form of punishment imaginable. While I stood at the top of the highest point during the storms, not caring if I slipped, got blown over, or was overcome by the menacing clouds, her eyes turned into forgiveness and granted mercy from those empty stares.
The nine months were the happiest of my life. We visited the country regularly and did everything with each other. Her eyes hinted naughtiness as we stripped down and skinny-dipped together, unashamed of the new life growing in her womb; they showed compassion for an injured animal; they portrayed innocence at the violent crimes of modern society, they radiated her love solely for me.
When the water broke, excitement shone forth, which was soon overshadowed by a cloud of doubt. Her voice was numbed by the anesthetist's needle, but her eyes pleaded with me. I was guided by the surly nurse and my fate lay lingering on another man's announcement.
I was too shaken up to listen properly - I picked out key words: "complications during birth"... "regret"..."wife didn't make it"...
The final words echoed through my head, and the walls of the hospital came crashing down as the realization hit me. "What about the baby?" I heard myself say.
My emotions were torn as I made my way towards the incubator. Could I ever forgive this stranger for taking my loved one's soul, let alone love it as my child.
As I stood in the doorway, tears streaming down my face, my answer arrived. Everything would eventually come right.
She had her mother's eyes.
