It’s been years after losing my eyesight and I’m starting to forget all the colors. I used to be a photographer. I’d mix and shade to make beautiful images, play with effects and make the colors pop. People would line up for my photoshoots. They loved my work and I loved working with different subjects using different methods.

You don’t realize how much colors matter until they’re gone and all you see is a black void. Now I don’t photograph. I don’t have color. All I have is my fading memory of colors I used to cherish.

My boyfriend tries helping me, but to no avail. I say “right, now I get it” but I’m lost. So incredibly lost. I don’t want him to know how futile it is to try and remind me.

I remember red is a firetruck, and I picture the firetruck, but in black and white.

I remember blue is the sky, but I picture a mass of darkness above me.

I remember yellow is the sunflowers he gave me on our first date, but I picture light grey petals.

I’ll never see colors again or remember my memories the same. They’re different now. It’s all different.

I stay positive because I’m lucky. Yes, I’m blind, but I haven’t lost my other senses. I still taste the oatmeal I’m fed each day. I still feel the chill of the cement ground or the softness of the mattress. I still smell the metal chains that leave its scent on my skin. I still hear the light stomping from above signaling me that my boyfriend is home.

Without these other senses, I’d surely go insane.

Instead, I feel my heart thud in excitement as my boyfriend’s work boots descend down the staircase and I hear his comforting voice and feel his hand caress mine as he lovingly strokes it with his thumb.

“I’m back, baby.”

He treats me good down here. I couldn’t live on my own after losing my sight. I’m lucky he offered to help, especially after how upset he was at my last job. I almost lost him.

It was a photoshoot for an aspiring model’s portfolio, and he paid well. The photographs were great. Nothing crude or extreme, though he did want a few shirtless images. You know how it goes.

These caused my boyfriend to become enraged. I should have known better, but I thought it was an innocent photoshoot. I’d edit, send and delete them off my camera. Nothing more.

I was wrong.

He accused me of cheating and looking at other men. I didn’t think it was a big deal, so I argued.

He has a temper. It was my fault in the end. But our argument escalated when he drowned my eyes in my hydroquinone film developer. The last thing I saw was the container over my eyes.

It hurt, yes, but I hurt him first. Now I know to never look at another man again.

Not that I could.