The Phenomena of You & Me

three | electric charge

t h r e e

electric charge — the physical property of matter that causes it to experience a force when placed in an electromagnetic field; there are two types of charges: positive and negative.

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YOU WOULD ALWAYS sit at the corner, three seats away from me during Art. It was the only class we had together because you all took AP classes and Art was probably the only subject I was better at.

Art was my escape and while it didn't make me feel alive in a way that your touch would, that was more than enough to suffice.

Art was like my Narnia where I could get lost in empty canvasses and acrylic brushstrokes—a world where mistakes cease to exist because every stroke, every line matters.

You would purse your lips in a thin line. In frustration, perhaps. Because you would rather talk about how the Earth is only a few tilts away from oblivion due to the sun than ponder about the kind of techniques the Impressionism was associated with.

And while you were obsessed with quantum physics and such, I was obsessed with getting the color of your eyes right.

I never told you this and now, I wish I had but I was always itching to paint you way before Mr. Ross forced us to get into tutoring.

I have bought all the paint tubes of brown shades that I could get my hands on but there was no match.

You once told me that brown was the most boring of all colours.

But you couldn't be more wrong.

It wasn't that thrilling golden brown shade nor was it the cayenne brown with a hint of orange. It was caught between the espresso and the black walnut shade.

It was the shade of brown that reminds you of the strong aroma of cappuccino the moment your eyes open and the white crisp sheets of your warm bed.

It was that specific shade of yours that constantly made me feel at home.

And no matter what method of painting I try—acrylic, oil, easel painting. I could never bring your eyes justice. Because I can never put you to a picture in a way that I could preserve you forever. And perhaps, in a way I became the painting, and you, a Science geek became the painter.

Ha! Would you believe that? You, a painter? Yeah, you'd end up ranting about how the future needs you for further study on Mars than end up doing something fickle that doesn't offer financial stability.

But baby, you were all the colors in this world. You're Marsala, Rose Quartz, Turquoise, Lemon, Sky Blue in one and my life was the muted canvas. You ended up painting a pretty fucked up picture but one that was beautiful in its own fuckedupness.

We were two opposing sides. I was the villain, you were the hero. I was Hell, you were Heaven. But I guess you were right when you taught me that unlike electric charges attract.

You were the most beautiful shade of blue there ever was—one that reminds you of a night on a beachside with the melody of calm waves crashing against each other serving as a music backdrop. While I was the most vicious shade of red there was—one that reminds you of a losing battle filled with blood bath and fickle lives.

I was the sun and you were the moon. We were two opposing sides.

But baby, our unlike charges made us create the most sacred shade of purple—one that reminds you of rebirth, flowers in their full bloom, whispering threes, and cherry blossoms in their pretty colors.