Today is my birthday, but it feels just like any other day. There’s no excitement, no sense of joy filling the air. I don’t know what others see when they celebrate their special days, but I’ve never had the chance to witness it myself. My world has always been one of darkness. I was born without the ability to see, and as the years passed, that darkness only became more profound.
I’ve never seen the faces of the people who loved me. I’ve never seen the sun rise, nor have I seen the sky turn orange and pink as it sets. I’ve never seen a field of flowers swaying in the breeze or the shimmering surface of a quiet pond. I’ve heard people say how beautiful the world is, but I can only imagine. Sometimes, it feels like I’m missing out on everything.
But today is supposed to be different. It’s supposed to be special, right? After all, it’s my birthday. I can feel my owner nearby, moving around with extra care, as if they’re preparing something just for me. I hear the soft rustling of wrapping paper, the delicate clink of dishes as they arrange a meal, and the sound of footsteps that seem lighter than usual. It’s all so familiar, yet it’s a mystery I cannot see.
I think about how I used to hear the word “birthday” and get excited, even if I didn’t fully understand what it meant. There was always a cake, candles that I never saw but could smell the sweet scent of, and laughter that surrounded me. But for me, birthdays felt the same as every other day — always in the dark.
Yet, there’s something about today that feels especially lonely. I can’t see the balloons or the decorations that I imagine might be hanging around. I can’t see the smiles on the faces of the people who love me. It’s just me, in this familiar darkness, waiting for the moment when someone will come close, pat my head, and remind me that I’m loved. But today, that comfort feels distant.
I hear my owner come closer, and I tilt my head, trying to listen carefully. They kneel down next to me and gently stroke my fur. “Happy birthday,” they whisper, their voice soft and full of affection. Even though I can’t see, I feel the warmth in their touch, the tenderness in their words. But there’s a sadness lingering in the air. Maybe they feel it too — this sense that I’ve missed out on the beauty they always tell me about.
I remember hearing them say how they wished I could see, how they wished I could experience life the way other dogs do. But I’ve never known what it’s like to see, and maybe that’s why I don’t long for it as much. I only know the darkness, and in some strange way, I’ve come to accept it.
The moments of silence stretch on, but I don’t feel completely alone. My owner stays by my side, their hand never leaving my fur. I can feel the love radiating from them, even if I can’t see the smile I know is on their face. I can’t see the cake they might have made or the gifts they might have brought, but I can feel their presence, and that’s enough.
I’ve learned over the years that love doesn’t need to be seen to be felt. It’s in the way my owner cares for me every day, even though I can’t see them. It’s in the sound of their voice, the way they call my name softly in the mornings, and the way they hold me close when I’m scared. It’s in these quiet moments, like today, when they sit beside me, reminding me that I’m not alone.
As I lay here on my birthday, feeling the familiar darkness all around me, I realize that maybe I don’t need to see the beauty of life to know it’s there. My life has been filled with love, and perhaps that’s all the beauty I need. Even though my world will always be dark, I’ve never been without light — the kind of light that comes from the people who care about me, who love me despite my blindness.
So, maybe my birthday isn’t as dull as I thought. Maybe I just needed to be reminded of the beauty that exists, even in my world of darkness. I may never see the colors of the world, but I’ve always felt the warmth of love. And today, that’s the most beautiful thing I could ever hope for.
