Author's note: I really did write this before the Breaking Dawn release, and I really wish I put it on here before, because it occurred to me that some of this is (quite oddly!) similar to Jacob's imprinting, which I really didn't mean for it to be! Also, I didn't know that the simile of a blind man and the sun would be used in BD, and I can't seem to think of a better one! So, sorry if the similarities seem unusual!
I'm waiting in the airport with my family. The terminal is very busy, with harried people tugging luggage and whining children about. In stark contrast, we sit silently in the chairs, still as stones, too consumed in our thoughts to keep up our human charade. My mind is in a buzz – I can't even think straight without her here. I know she's safe, I know she's safe … so why can't I breathe?
I look at Carlisle. Esme is sitting next to him, her posture tense, her hand gripping his arm. He doesn't notice; they both stare forward in silence. Even Emmett and Rosalie are quiet. Her head is bowed, and I feel shame emanating from her, heavy and deep. Emmett pats her on the shoulder but stays rigidly immobile, leaning away from her family to stare at the ground.
The people walk past me, and the colors and shapes seem to move at too quick a pace for me to grasp them. I see a mother comforting her screaming child, and I feel her tenderness coming through her frustration. I see a man eating a sandwich, and his loneliness and despair drifts over to me, enveloping me in gloom. I see a young teenage girl alone by the water fountain, rebellious and confused, homesick and scared. I see an elderly lady embracing a young woman, and I feel her joy, her breathless relief. There is too much at once, and in my weakened state I can't block out the emotions that come at me all at once. A million lives, a million souls, a million dreams all swirl around me, and I grip the armrests of the seat, struggling to control the inner turmoil before I explode.
Then, I see her.
My dream, my life, my soul.
I am standing, without quite remembering when I had moved. And suddenly all the people, sounds, smells, and noises, vanish into nothingness. The world becomes silent and still. There is only one thing in my entire existence, and that is the girl that steps lightly to my side.
I stare into her face like a blind man looking into the light for the first time. She doesn't smile, she doesn't laugh, she doesn't cry. She simply stares back, and, just like so many years ago, tenderly takes my hand.
And I know what she is now.
She is my pinpoint of light in the darkness.