The world is not a sunshiney place and it didn't take me long to figure that out. Thankfully my blindness precluded me from accepting the standard pair of rose colored glasses. I'm not saying I am happy with the way the world is. I'm not. I wish it were different. In a perfect world I could see. I've simply accepted that there is no alternative to the reality I am living in.
Though, there are still mornings when I wake and I feel a rage fueled longing to be able to see, just once. What others take for granted I would give years of my life to attain for just a fragment of time. But I know the truth, and I know the world, and sight will never be mine.
Oh, but there can still be beauty.
Did you know that the blind dream in color? Or at least, I do. For even with my eyes darkened, sparkles of colored lights flash across my vision. I don't know their names (how can I? What reference do I have?) but they are heated and bright, demanding attention. At night they soften and shimmer.
I knew a girl once who couldn't speak. She was my eyes and I, her voice. I'm fairly certain she got the short end of the stick with that arrangement because she was really a terribly sweet mare, and my words were not always hers. But then, her sight was never really mine either.
I step forward curiously, breathing deeply, a scent coming closer. My movements are far from fluid. It doesn't matter that I have been blind from birth. There is no way to move with ease when you don't know if a rock or a log is going to suddenly appear. It used to matter to me, not being seen as blind, but no more. A small smile works its way across my face in the instant before my companion speaks. It does not go unnoticed that he was careful to approach me where the wind would announce him. I am grateful.
"Yronwood" I say, my voice soft and musical. It's an unusual name, and a mouthful, but it sounds strong. My mother said strong names matter.
"Of course, yes, please. I'd like the company. I like the crowds sometimes but it makes it hard to know what's around me."
I wonder if I should point out that I am blind. There is always the awkwardness around that when I meet someone new. I decide for blunt honesty. "I'm Saskya, by the way. And I'm not ignoring you, I promise. I'm blind. I say that only so you won't be terribly offended if I bump into you."
I grin wryly, and playing my usual game of wondering what he looks like.
there is beauty in the darkness