Seeing With the Heart [ A JulQuen Short Story]

Seeing with the Heart

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched. It can only be felt with the heart.”

-Helen Keller

*******

Today is my fortieth birthday. Some says that real life begins at forty. It’s where you become fully mature to handle everything in life. For me I think it is where joy stops and happiness; starts given that you know the difference between the two. But my life had started way back. It started on a stormy day during one of the dullest days of my life.

I never thought that when I entered that orphanage, I would leave something so important for me.

But during that time I was willing to give it.

 I was thinking that if I could give more, I definitely will. Still I know I had given enough.

I had given something I know when’s lost will never return to me again.

It was my heart.

*****

I was shivering under the gray roof of the entrance of this blasted institution. Why the hell was I here? I was only caught drinking beer inside the campus! I wasn’t stealing or doing drugs! Sometimes those meddlers they call teachers should evaluate their punishments. I could have spent this day throwing some hoops with my team. But no, those meddlers chose this day to curse my entire being. I scoffed as the wind brought the rain to my direction. I automatically walked backwards. It was so freezing! I put my hands in the inside of my pants’ pockets, attempting real hard to keep warm.

Could this day get any better?

“Enrique?” I rolled my eyes. That’s the word I really disgust! “It’s Quen.” I said indignantly, and turned back. There was a girl, she was tall and I was only taller a few couple of inches. Her hair is tied back to a ponytail. She looked so plain. But what I noticed the most was her not looking at me, and one second I was thinking that maybe there’s another Enrique dude her, too. I looked at her still not looking straight at me. It is as if she was looking passed at me. I looked at her and frowned. She smiled and I felt something…Different. “Mmm Quen, Sister is looking for you already. Do you mind joining me inside?” she still wasn’t looking at me and that’s when I notice the long stick in front of her.

Definitely blind…I told myself.

Just to be sure, I wave my hand in front of her face and I froze when she grinned. “No need to put air on my face. It’s too cold already.” Said she and she turned her back on me and started walking with the help of her stick. And then I suppose I should follow. She walked with such easy grace that it got me wondering if she’s really blind. She knows where to turn or walk straight. I was just following her, occasionally rubbing my hands to warm myself up. We stopped at a varnished wooden door and I watched as she fumbled for the door knob. The scene makes me uneasy so I did it myself. “Let me.” And at the moment I put my hand upon the knob, was the moment that she did, too. I thought it was cliché when the books I’ve read, yeah, I read books cause my parents told me so, they’re college professors; speak about electricity happening when two people touch, or when you feel butterflies in your stomach. Yes I read romantic novels (blame the parents). I thought they weren’t real thing. I thought they were written just to make the readers giddy, which I actually didn’t feel. I just like it when it always has happy endings. As she held my hand and grasped it gently and directed it to move to knob, I had felt it. Alessandro Volta must have been so proud. “Thanks.” She said as she looked at my direction. “No problem.” I replied and coughed after because my throat had become dry.