I held onto her skirt, the thin bits of fabric sliding through my fingers. I could see the colors of it. Not the same kind of see as you see though. I see in my head, all the colors and shapes. Then again, as far as I know, what I call colors and shapes are something completely different to you.
I’ve been blind since birth. I’ve always been smart though, I adapted to my ways quickly and learned from the words people spoke. I have a wide vocabulary and have written 2 top selling books, not including my small time books. I have plenty of money and donate almost all of it. What’s the point of having money if you can’t see anything you’re buying?
When I touch her skirt I see a bright dash of color. A round shape that fills my head. I grasp onto it stand up. Her hands touch my shoulders and I can feel my skin get cold. She then holds my face, her hands so warm, and kisses my lips softly. I can feel her smile, as do I.
“I love you Jonathan.”
“As I love you Masie.”
Masie has been with me since I graduated college. She met me and at first didn’t like me, avoided me. One night she pulled out a book of mine and read it, and came crying to my dorm room. She makes not being able to see more frustrating than I’ve ever felt. I can’t see the hair her best friend describes as fire, I can’t see the eyes her parents call an ocean. I can’t see the freckles that surround her nose, or the fingers she loves to entwine with mine.
But in a way, that’s okay, because then when she touches me, it’s a million times more meaningful. When her body lays against mine I can feel everything about her. Things you wouldn’t notice if you could see. The way her curls rest on my shoulder when we hold each other, the way her nails feel when they trace my back. The small things you don’t notice with sight. You see, when sight is taken from you, all your senses are heightened. So when she breathes in my ear my entire body gets warm.
I love my wife.
Yesterday, I heard my wife answer the phone. She sounded surprised, shocked. She came into our bedroom where I was enjoying my coffee and she put the phone in my hand. I lifted it to my ear.
“Jonathan Larson here.”
“Hello Mr. Larson, this is Dr. Ginsey from the Bascom Palmer Eye Institute-Anne Bates Leach Eye Hospital in Miami, Florida. I wanted to call and offer you a proposition.”
And of course, this spiked my interest. “I’m listening.”
“You are the most famous blind man in America at the moment. The whole country looks to you for advice and feeling. So as a gift to America and to you sir, we have a new invention. A glass eye with a camera in the center, and it looks identical to a normal eye. We wire the camera through your bloodstream and into your brain. If you want to hear more science about that just say so. But if you flew down here to Florida, we could give you sight.”
The phone hit something as I threw it forward. I think it hit a wall. I heard Masie come running in, and picking up the phone.
“I’m sorry, he’ll get back to you.” She hit the end button, (I heard the beep) and heard her come closer. “What was that all about?”
“They can give me eyes.”
Her breathing stopped. I couldn’t hear it. “What do you mean Jon?” She asked cautiously.
“They have invented fake eyes, and offered me to get them.”
She put her hand on mine and sat next to me. “That’s amazing darling!”
“How could you say that? I don’t want to know what the world is like. I like my world,” I
said as I found her face. I traced my thumb beneath her eye and felt wet.
