The Conflicted Color Pallet

L

I was black:
     filled with anxiety and constant nagging from all the voices in my head. doomed to a life lived in the not knowingness. consumed by the "what could be" and weighed down by the reminder that I could fail. struggling to tread just slightly above the water so that I could breath, often failing when the swells pulled me down.

But you were white.
         so surreal it's almost magical. cleansing and weightless. free of no mistakes or impurities. such a contrast to I, that it often made me wondered how we could so easily be paired together.

And when we kissed, we made gray.
       not the kind that represents the fog between is wrong and what is right, because oh, this was so right. no, it was the kind of gray like just after the sunset, but it's not quiet dark enough to be shut inside. the sky is this shade somewhere between the lightest blue and the black of space. and everything feels like, just for that moment, you might be okay.
        and every time his lips touched mine and we created those feelings and colors, they reminded me of how much of a perfect balance we were. because I did not tarnish him, and he did not erase me. instead, we combined all of these emotions to become this one reaction. a word, a color, a feeling that can be used in so many dialects and contexts to describe the beautiful in between. we've created the haze.

And that is why my favorite color is gray.