Color Me

Walking beside the sea with a canvas in hand and a heavy heart wasn't a good idea.

Every step I take, the memory of her is slowly coming back. I can still feel the sweet caress that still lingers on my skin, the honey-like voice that soothes my insides, and a lively presence that colors my dark world.

Missing was the hardest feeling, I can say, it can make you feel all the emotions you knew you've overcome. Being alone makes you think of all the past decisions and happenings you've done. All the wrong decisions you wished you can make right, all the bad things you've said that you wished to take back. From the smallest mistake you've done, to the biggest crisis you've faced—missing has the power to make you feel things again—a partner of guilt.

I know, I shouldn't have the right to walked on the same page again. But no matter how much I tried to avoid it, I still found myself stumbling on the thoughts of her. She is a big chunk of my life. Fuck, she used to be my life.

Loving wasn't really a thing that I am good at.

All through my life, I've been living in a complete black and white—everything was too plain. Until the day she came. She adds colors on my too monochromatic world, she's the pigment that makes it feel more....human.

It's still a mystery to me why she decided to stay when I am nothing. She stayed even I turn my back at her, she understands me, she always do things that she knew was better for me, and she even sacrificed her own likings just for my own happiness. She is everything I am not, and when I  realized her worth, she was already gone.

I admit, there are times that I took her for my own advantages. I never listen to her whims, I never ask her why she's sad—if she had a bad day. I never comforted her whenever she needs a shelter. Fuck, I am a complete blackhole in her galaxy, yet, she stays.

I want to be the best guy she can have, if only things will go back from the start.

The sea looks calm.

Staring blankly at it, while my feet were soaked in the water—I remembered how much she enjoys the sea. How she always smiles whenever the waves touched her toes and how the smallest pebbles makes her amused. Reminiscing her at that moment, that was her brightest I've ever seen.

And I will forever treasure that.

Using the pen that I was holding for too long, I start to scribble on my empty canvas. But as I drew on the next detail of her—oh god her hands. I can't help but feel all the pain I caused her all through those years.

It was the same hands that holds me whenever I am at my worst, the same hands that soothes my demons, the same hands that caress me when I need comfort. And yet, the same hands I failed to hold...tighter.

I knew my regret wouldn't changed everything.

My own guilt won't make her come back. It's still as clear as yesterday when we argue about those stupid little problems. It was a bad day for me so I acted so unreasonable. I raised my voice at her—making her cry. Thinking only about myself, I swallowed the bitterness I felt when I saw her tears escaping from her eyes. Being prideful and a fucking coward, I never comforted her even I knew it was my goddamn fault.

Days passed, and no one even dared to make a conversation. Living with her isn't helping either, everyday I avoid her. Sometimes I saw her glancing at my side while I ignored her intentionally. I admit, during that time, I was waiting for her to be sorry first. I build my own walls towards her, waiting for her to break it all down. Not knowing that the walls will do more damage to me, than on her.

Then the waiting game reached its end.

I was waiting for her to say it first, but instead, my world starts to have its fucking shitshow. Packing her bags while looking at me in a tearful eyes—full of determination and a part of not wanting to leave—she said her goodbyes.