“Kids are making sand castles, while their parents are sitting under the rainbow-colored umbrellas,” said a guy’s voice suddenly.

Why would a stranger say such ridiculous things out of nowhere? “Who are you?” I asked.

“The dad laughs very loudly; I bet his wife feels embarrassed from the way she wears her expression; she is all frowny.”

“The word ‘frowny’ is not even in the dictionary. Who are you?” I asked him once again. I started to get irritated by him not answering me, but his smell distracted me; jasmine. Never had I ever encountered a guy who smelled like flowers before.

“Woah what a Grammar Nazi!” He retorted, nudging my left shoulder lightly.

“Why are you talking to me? What do you want?”

“Can’t a guy talk to a girl without being questioned?” He asked.

“Well, guys rarely make a conversation with blind girls.” I answered shortly.

“Well it’s their loss; everyone has a story, and with them only talking to certain people, means less story for them to hear, less they know about life.”

“So you’re talking to me so you could hear my story?”

“Well that’s a part of it, but mostly because I just want to share what I see. The sun is setting, and the sky is pinkish. Pink is the color of people’s cheeks when they feel too many emotions. Birds are flying, waves are crashing …”

The description felt too much, and I didn’t like it. “Did you think telling me this would make me feel better? What if I wish I were deaf as well when people around me start describing the things that they just saw, all the beautiful things that took their breath away? You can’t just barge in, and act like you know everything!” How dare he? I got up, trying to brush off the sands on my pants. 

“The palm trees are tall, and they sway as the wind blows. It’s peaceful. Can’t you feel it?” He didn’t even sound guilty, as if I didn’t just explode. I left the beach without saying anything back.

I honestly couldn’t believe that on my way back I kept thinking over what he described. What was wrong with me?

The next day I was on my way to the market when suddenly, someone gave me a cup of something hot.

“You’re welcome. I don’t know whether you like green tea or not, but I asked Google yesterday and it said that most girls liked green tea lattes. Like its name, green tea latte is green colored, like the leaves of palm trees at the beach yesterday. Green is also the color of your eyes… as green as nature would like it”.

And I did like green tea lattes.

Somehow this time, I didn’t wish I were deaf. I liked his descriptions; it somehow made me feel less blind. My mind suddenly was full with interest. “Tell me more,” I couldn’t believe what I said. Why did I just say that?

“The road that we walk on is grey, that’s how the sky looks like when it’s about to rain. Grey is brighter than the night sky, yet so dark next to white. White is the color of snow, the color of purity and the start of something new,”

And that day was the start of something new. Everyday he’d be right beside me, describing the beauty and the crudeness of this world.

“If miracle was a color, it’d be gold.” He said suddenly, holding my hand.

“Why would it be gold?”

“Because it’s worth that much. Wait never mind, it’s even more than gold; it’s beyond what colors could decipher,”

“Then that means you are beyond colors to me. I may not know how colors look like, but you sure do bring colors into my dark world,”

Then he hugged me and whispered, “I’ve got a good news…the hospital called me yesterday…they found eyes transplant for you”.

 I was shocked; I had always wanted to be able to see, but the more time I spent with him, the less I wanted anything, because I already got the best thing in my life.

“Don’t say no, I can read it from your expression that you aren’t excited about it. Please do it; I want you to experience life, fully…accept this miracle.”

So I did.

Sometime after the surgery, the doctor finally opened the bandage on my eyes and I was slowly able to see, but I wasn’t thrilled at all. I didn’t smell any jasmine; that meant he wasn’t here. Why wouldn’t he be here?

After the doctor told me to have a rest and leave, suddenly my phone rang; I picked it up. “Hello?”

“I don’t want you to see me, because I’m neither beautiful nor I’m appealing. You’ll slowly realize that I don’t fulfill the society’s beauty standard and I don’t want to humiliate you. You’re as beautiful as a field of flower during twilight, and I’m better left in the dark.” It was him.

“Don’t assume things for me. Come here and let me make my own judgment!” I shouted to the phone angrily.

Then suddenly the door opened, and the room smelled like jasmine. A man with a big scar across his face, walked in. I went quiet.

“See? You got nothing to say,” he said.

“I may not know how beautiful looks like, but I’m certain of my feelings. The scenery you described, the colors you made me see from your description. I’ve felt beautiful things through you, but never once I experienced how I feel right now being able to see you brown eyes, you pink pouty lips, exactly how you described them to me. You are way more beautiful than all the striking things you defined for me. I do not care about the beauty standards, because I have my own standard, and you are on the highest scale,”

Then he smiled. I just knew that I would never see something more beautiful than that.