Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts ran a million miles an hour. I couldn’t even imagine what Milo’s thoughts were doing to him.
Around two in the morning, I sent him a text.
Starlet: Okay?
I hoped he was sleeping, but within seconds, I received a message back.
Milo: Okay.
Milo: Go to bed, Teach.
I sighed.
Okay.
CHAPTER 24
Milo
I wondered what it looked like for others—the world. What did they see that my eyes missed out on? I wondered if I ever saw the world as it was actually supposed to be seen. I never knew I had an issue, which was probably part of the problem. I just assumed everyone saw everything through the same lens as I did.
What did their blues look like? And their greens? How far beside them could they witness? What were their perspectives on life, and how had I gone so long without knowing I was different?
Lately, I felt as if I looked at everything from a new viewpoint. I studied things longer; animals, people, and plants. I zoomed in on objects more than I ever had before. Once you learned you might lose your vision forever, you looked at life through a different set of eyes—cliché as it sounded. The issue was that I wasn’t certain that what I was seeing was what I was supposed to be seeing.
I also went through a box of photographs that sat in the back of my closet. They were a collection of pictures of my parents and me. I went through them over the past year every now and again whenever I felt that missing Mom was too strong. Something about seeing her in photos and witnessing her smile was enough to get me through some of the hardest days.
The idea that I wouldn’t have that source of connection with her one day terrified me. I didn’t want to forget her smile. Her eyes. Her. I was terrified of forgetting her.
When it was time for the next appointment for my eye exam, I somehow managed to get Dad to drive me to the doctor’s appointment, where he waited in the lobby for me to finish. When I walked into the office space, I felt nauseous. It was as if I’d already known what was coming, yet I was still terrified to hear the words leave the doctor’s mouth.
Everything felt as if it were moving in both slow motion and rapid speed. I couldn’t get a grip on the situation, and my eyes were tired of being dilated and examined repeatedly.
I kept blinking, trying to shake off the odd sensation taking place.
Then for a while, I was left alone in the exam room.
I sat there, feeling an achingly loud sense of loneliness. I knew when the doctor returned, he’d have the results for me. I wasn’t certain I was ready to hear the diagnosis.
He walked back in with a smile that told me everything I needed to know. “Okay,” he stated. “The results are back…but first, do you have a family member in the lobby who you’d like to bring in so they hear all the information with you?”
That was his nice way of saying, “You’re going blind, so you might need a support system.”
“My dad’s out there,” I mentioned.
He nodded. “If you’d like, you can go get him and bring him back with you.”
I felt idiotic for wanting my father to come into that exam room with me. I was grown enough that I should’ve been able to handle it on my own, but such a big part of me wanted his support.
I wished it were Mom, though. I wondered if I’d ever stop wishing it were Mom.
Without much more thought, I pushed myself up from my chair and headed out to the lobby to find my father. As I glanced around, I noticed he was no longer sitting there waiting for me.
I checked the bathrooms for him, but they were all empty. I shot him a text message but received no reply. I went outside to see if he’d perhaps taken a cigarette break, yet my stomach tightened up when I looked across the parking lot and realized his car was gone.
Before walking back to the office, I pulled out my cell phone and opened my contacts. My finger hovered over Starlet’s name for a moment. She was who I wanted at that time. She was who I needed. But she was strictly off-limits for her own good. If I called, she’d show up. I had no questions or doubts about that. Yet I couldn’t screw up her world solely because my own was a mess. I’d never add harm to her life if I could avoid it. Still, I wished she was there with me. She was good at making the bad things hurt a little less.
I put my phone away and headed back into the doctor’s office, feeling like a complete moron, and resumed my seat. I cleared my throat. “Sorry. Something came up, and he had to leave.”