My Mind’s Eye is Blind

I don’t quite remember the first time I understood that other people can actually see things behind their eyes.

For most of my life, I assumed that phrases like “picture a beach,” “the mind’s eye,” and “I can still see her face” were figures of speech. Polite shared metaphors. The same way we say “the sun rises” while knowing perfectly well the sun does no such thing. I never once questioned it. I just nodded and assumed that everyone meant what I meant when I said those things. Which was nothing.

I can close my eyes right now, but I cannot conjure up a face or an object. There has never been a picture. I can pick faces out of a crowd. I know what people look like. However, the screen behind my eyes is blank. Always has been.

It’s interesting to me because of how much of who I am turns out to be downstream of this. It might be one of the most me things about me.

Isn’t that weird?