Live in Color

two - blue

By the time I'm finally reeled out of my shock, the boy is long gone. I almost feel like crying. This isn't what was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be happy. He wasn't supposed to be run away. He's wasn't supposed to be a rebel. He wasn't supposed to look so upset. This was supposed to be the best day of my life.

My body is shivering. My legs make themselves take a step forward. Just keep walking, I tell myself. Just make it back home. I wrap my arms around myself as I keep shivering. I'm feeling overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed. I find myself wanting to appreciate the beauty around me, the pallet of pigments that are now making up my world, but I can't. It's like I'm about to collapse at any moment.

I can't breathe.

Luckily, I don't come across anyone else as I trudge through Crooks Street. When I finally make it out, my eyes on the ground (which is no longer grey) I make my legs move faster so I can get home already. I'm trying not to feel anything, not to acknowledge the situation, not to panic. I don't want to do that in the middle of the street but frankly, I don't know how much longer I can hold out. I'm losing it; I don't know what to do.

I call out to my parents the second I get home. I have to hold onto the doorknob to keep from collapsing. God, my home looks so much different. So, so different. Everything is bright and beautiful with colors. Instead of making me happy, though, it depresses me.

Damn it, colors are supposed to be the best thing that's ever happened to me! Instead, he just ran away, the second half of me just ran away. Is that why it hurts so much? Because I finally became a whole the minute we bumped into each other so it physically hurts to be torn away from that. Because it does hurt, in my chest, arms, legs, neck, back, everywhere. 

I don't hear my mother's cries, asking me what's wrong. In fact, I feel myself zoning out. When I finally come to, I'm looking at my mother's face sideways. The soft mattress underneath my body is a clear giveaway that I'm on my bed. I focus in on my mother; she looks so different in color. Everything about her is so unique now, so original. It brinks out everything about her.

"Ma," I tell her, and she leans in to hear what I have to say. "Ma, I see it. I see color."

My mother's eyebrows furrow as she runs her hand through my hair. "Sweetheart, your ceremony was just today."

"I met him," I whisper.

My mother's eyes begin to water to as her face breaks out into the most beautiful grin. Her teeth are white as they were before, but this time they seem to stand out more against the other pigments of her skin. "Natalie, I'm so happy for you. This is amazing."

I'm only barely able to shake my head before I break down into tears.

x

"This is blue," my mother explains, pointing at the box. It's no longer a shade of grey as I used to see it, it's completely different, on the opposite side of the spectrum. I like the color a lot, I decide. "It's the color of the sky and the color of the seas." I peer out the window at the sky, seeing she's almost right.

"It's not the exact same, though."

"That's because it's a shade of blue. Sky blue." I laugh a little from the obvious name. My mother's eyes scan the page of colors before she finds it and points it out to me. "There, that's sky blue. Then there's navy blue and royal blue, see how they're darker? And baby blue is lighter."

"I like blue," I whisper, trying out the word on my tongue. "It's pretty. Especially the light ones." My finger runs over a box of a bright, almost neon blue (my mother had taught me that word) called arctic blue. I really like that one, it's super bright. After being surrounded by dullness my whole life, I appreciate the ability for a color to pop in my face.