Everything is pitch black. No sign of any light or a glimpse of any color. Braille was my only hope to let myself be a part of this fun, tragic, humane and cruel place we call our world. Four out of my five senses are still functioning yet I already feel the emptiness and loneliness in every morning I wake up to — mornings which I can never describe on how daytime actually looks like.

It was yesterday when I finally knew I will have a life. It was yesterday when I finally had the chance to see how beautiful he looks whenever he caresses my cheeks; how adorable his mannerisms are to every moment I feel his company. “The doctors have finally met a donor for your sight!” were the words that gave me hope to see how precious his eyes twinkle everytime our presence meet.

It was a few hours later after I woke up in the morning when Chanyeol opened the doorway in a café which he said we always go to. He held my hand as he interlocked his fingers unto mine saying the words, “Baek, just trust me.” I tightened my grip and let myself be his own puppet to guide.

 

---

 

There, I sat quitely as the server gave the drinks he ordered for us. Staring blankly into one specific spot, I keep questioning myself, what the hell is he doing right now — is he staring at me? Just then, sounds of scribbles started to be heard. I tried initiating the first words to start a conversation, but my mouth never fails to be kept closed.

Few seconds passed and Chanyeol began to speak, “I heard you’re getting your eyes today, Baek. But it seems like you’re not excited at all.”

Flipping of pages still occurs but I tried not to mind. “Of course I am, silly. You just don’t know how I do things,”

I heard him chortled. “Byun Baekhyun, I’ve known you for almost three-fourths of my life! We’ve been the best of friends ever since you had your first school. How can you tell me I don’t know how you do things?” he says as he sipped his favorite chocolate latte, just the way he likes it.

 

---

 

Time went on with our endless random chats. Talks about how he foolishly slipped last Friday when he was on his way to his room. How pleasing the sounds of each key everytime I play the piano and how dumb we were when we were still in kindergarten. Those were the kind of conversations I always adored. Something which doesn’t require me to think but to just let my words come out from what I feel.

"Look, Baek. I haven't told you this but there's this urgent event and I need to go to the States with my Dad later. I'll be staying there for quite some time," Chanyeol suddenly mentioned. With eyes wide-open and jaw almost dropped to the ground, I was left shocked with the abrupt seriousness.

"Quit that face Baek! You’re making it uneasy for me to go!" added by an obvious fake chuckle.

"But hey! Don’t worry, after the months your eyes wrapped with tissue or whatever you call those, I’ll surely knock to your room with a box full of your favorite movies you’ve always wanted to watch!" I started to giggle but still speechless with the thought that he’ll be away for months.

 

---

 

Hours went on yet I feel like only minutes had passed. “It’s already 3 o’clock! You better get home so you could prepare for the operation,” Chanyeol spoke as I heard him flipping the covers of his notebook. I nodded. It was the only answer I could give after hearing out the thought of finally seeing his face that lightens up with every smile he makes.

Chanyeol hugged me. Feeling the warmth of his chest, he gave a soft peck on my forehead and whispered, “A few more months and I promise you’ll finally see everything… ev-everything with me,” as he tightened his arms unto mine and he then waved seemingly goodbye.

 

 

---

 

The operation lasted for hours which I surprisingly endured. I guess Chanyeol’s words of how astonishing the world could be were too strong for me to resist this. It’s still black, still empty and dull but there’s this step that I just took, a step for him.

We agreed to keep in touch through email while he’s miles away from me. With the help of my mom and my long time friend which I call Braille, everything went on smoothly.

With each words I heard from Chanyeol, as my Mom patiently reads his replies, silent laughters and unseen smiles surrounds my whole being knowing his presence still lingers everytime I receive his messages.

 

---

 

Two months had passed. Suddenly, unknown sounds of weeping and unbearable cries were all I heard as I listen to my Mom’s downhearted tone. Behind the blank stares, there’s this part of me where there’s more than emptiness, more than dullness… more than death. Teardrops started to stream down my face after hearing out that Chanyeol’s father had passed away.

Hugging him was the only thing I could think of at that moment, although it’s intangible. However, there’s this warmth that came around wrapping my body, almost feeling the pain and suffering I am into. She patted my head while my mom’s voice breaks, “He’ll be okay… he will always be… for you.” “Th-thanks M-om,” I replied with a stuttering voice.

 

---

 

October 10th and it stopped. His last emails were way back from the last days of September. I tried coping up the very last string of hope telling myself he’s doing fine and he didn’t forget me.

Opening the fall and I numbly sat. There, I started playing the keys. I let the melancholic melody fulfill every side of the room while playing his favorite song, reminiscing unseen memories and undefined feelings.

It was a week of grey skies and loneliness.

 

Sunday morning and I rose with excitement emplaced on my face. It was my Mom who woke me up passed 9 o’clock in the morning to hear a message from him. Length too short, yet it meant my whole day. It was just a simple greeting from Chanyeol to start my morning beaming — and yes he succeeded in doing so.

 

---

 

The awaited day came. Little by little, rays of light in the hospital started to shine on me. Walls so white with people full of smiles appeared before me. It was as precious as those children’s fairytales with happy endings, it was perfect!

Setting aside everything, I held up my laptop, and finally told Chanyeol:

 

❝ …it’s truly magical, the world is extravagantly magical! Like what you’ve always say, ❞

 

---

 

Given my newfound sight, it was one of my goals to meet his parents. Out of all the times Chanyeol brought me to his house, my limbs lead me straight to their door. Knocking, a woman appeared right in front of me.

 

"Good morning Ma’am, I am Byun Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s best friend," I greeted as I beamed at her.

Bewilderment and confusion were written all over her face, but she still strived to introduce herself,

“Hi Baek, I’m Mrs. Park, Chanyeol’s mom.”

 

"Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry Mrs. Park, I-I didn’t know! I’m…" I gasped. 

"It’s alright Baekhyun, it’s alright," she calmly remarked as she let me in.

 

“Feel at home, Baek! You’re always welcome!” Mrs. Park finally said.

"Can I go to his room? I-I mean to Chanyeol’s room?" as I candidly request this with zest.

"Ye-yes you can check Yeol’s room upstairs if you like," she responds with delight.

 

---

 

His room was as enchanting as how I imagine heaven feels like. Seeing all our picturesque memories posted on his corkboard along with simple notes and dates stapled and taped everywhere. But what caught my eye was this one photo of ours in a dainty carousel — Chanyeol staring dauntlessly at me while my hand tightens my grip onto his, never wanting to let go.

His gaze was the most precious thing I had ever seen, with his pure hazelnut eyes smiling back at me along with his radiant unheard giggles. The way his hair was brushed up makes me want to ruffle my fingers on it endlessly. His flawless porcelain skin partnered with his absolute tallness that appears ideal as I hear his heartbeat whenever we hug.

I knew he was seamless but I didn’t knew until now that he’s beyond the limits of my perceived perfection.

 

There, I laid on his bed feeling his unseen presence lingering beside me. Hearing the soft sounds of the tree branches brought by the wind knocking on his window, I smiled — so this is what trees behaves like.

Until then, sounds of sniffles and silent sobs was heard; it was from the other room. Curiosity prompted myself to take a step out and peek on the slightly ajar door. It was dim, light from a laptop was the only sight in the room.

 

A woman weeping while holding a frame covering the picture itself, it was Mrs. Park. Wanting to give comfort with the thought of her being a widow, I had the urge to walk towards her and give her a solace warm hug. But she walked away even before I knocked, leaving the frame down and the laptop on.

Stepping inside, I’ve always wanted to meet Chanyeol’s dad — at least seeing his picture. I went in, walking towards the area where she left, I was surprised to see a photograph of Chanyeol, holding up a diploma, wearing a graduation uniform placed in a neatly fine frame Mrs. Park kept on hugging a few seconds ago.

 

Accidentally tapping the one of the keys of the laptop, the monitor headed into the inbox of Mrs. Park’s emails — an inbox full of my messages.

Just then, Mrs. Park came back from the restroom, a box of tissue on her hand greeting me with reddening eyes and an almost dropped jaw, trying to avoid my gaze.

 

"Why are you reading these?!" with squinted eyes, I demanded.

"I-I, B-Baek, y-you-" she said with her voice breaking and swollen eyes stuttering.

Letting myself focus back on my own emails, I knew all her inbox was full of my and only my messages. Until then she faced me,

"H-Here! Just, just read! Don’t ask!" while handing me a book then jostling me out of the Park’s residence.

 

---

 

Knowing this came from Chanyeol, I immediately headed to our favorite park near the café we usually go. Like a little child on Christmas eve, I opened the almost rotten pale maroon book covered with a thin black outline on each edge. With glistening eyes, it greeted me with a printed title written with a finely marked pencil which has these words:

 

❝ to MBK, ❞

 

As soon as I started reading the first chapters, I realized it was a book that narrated his life; a life wherein he loves somebody else that's not me.

In a split second, the book was forcefully casted away without any hesitation — why the hell will I read a damn love story about someone I’ve always loved ever since, falling for someone whom I didn’t even know anything about. Worst, I didn’t even saw my name in any of the pages.

How silly of me to even think about Chanyeol being in love with someone who can't even see anything but plain black. Of course, he'll love someone else.

 

He's perfect and I'm just from afar.

 

I shouldn't have been blind. If I wasn't then at least he could have just told me about this. I could've never let myself fall for him this hard from the very start and I wouldn't be feeling this pain and emptiness inside me.

 

I sat sluggishly on the bench, feeling broken and hurt. Tears simultaneously running while reminiscing the feeling of having him close to me, having him own me, the feeling of having the thought of Chanyeol loving me too.

Then it happened, it was the book — the old crinkled book I threw earlier. As the wind flip its pages, it landed on the second to the very last page with a crumpled yellow post-it-note used as a bookmark.

 

❝ …But I really do love ‘him’. I just hope I could still touch his flawless white pale skin which I always adore; his forever twinkling hazelnut brown eyes glistering every single day and night; and his oh-so-perfect red pulpy lips which seems tastes like cherry coated strawberries. How I will miss those — how I will miss him so damn much. ❞

 

❝ …I even lied to him at my very last day to see him. Keeping from him that I was his found donor and making him believe I’ll be emigrating to States. It’s because I can’t speak about my fourth stage of cancer. ❞

 

❝ …How funny it was when the person whom he was sending emails to was my mom. What’s funnier is that I’m the one who asked for that lie. I even begged everyone he knows to not utter a word to him — literally everyone. I should be the one, and should always be the one to tell him these and not from anyone’s mouth or words. And now, he’s reading this using my very own eyes…❞

 

Later did I know that tears started to race down my face with swollen eyes and endless sniffles, I held on to the wrinkled, unsticky, post-it-note,

 

My BaeKhyun, now you can

see everything with my eyes

— everything with me,

as what I promi