No one ever tries to see things the way I do. And that’s the truth. Sometimes I think that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t.

I guess there’s one exception, but it’s not much of an exception. “Murder in the Dark” and other such games have never amused me. I don’t run around with my arms outstretched trying to find others for fun. Being blind isn’t a game. Except I’m not totally blind. I no longer see shapes, not even blurred, though I can see light.

Which is why I love the sun. It’s the one thing that I can not only sense and feel, slowly tanning my skin, but can also see.

My blindness didn’t happen suddenly; no it was a gradual process. The edges of my vision began to blur and objects no longer had a definite end. I couldn’t tell exactly where the sea met the sand. The headaches came next. They were the worst. I didn’t know what was happening and I was much too frightened to tell anyone.

I’m overjoyed to have once been able to witness the beauty of the world, however young and unappreciative of it I may have been. Now I see a different beauty; the beauty within. It’s all I have, and I cling tightly to it.

They’ve said there are many things I wouldn’t be able to do, but I’ve proved them wrong. It was a struggle, I’ll admit, but I got there in the end. I was never one to take the easy path. I can play the piano strong and confidently and my singing voice is sweet. I can read just as any person and am moving through school.

My dog, Molly is my bestfriend. We literally do everything together and I love her for it. But Molly is getting old and I sense that her time has nearly come. She will be dearly missed.

I haven’t given up, and I never will. You’ll always be able to hear my song.