I know how cliché the story of first loves are.
And I don't know why I'm writing this but I can't seem to stop.
It's been what? Three or four years since our love faded away?
And I could still remember the details as vivid as possible.
We were so young and clueless about that thing that they called "love."
But we felt it anyway.
Some people say, we would last-- and others didn't even believe in what we felt.
But they didn't matter. They weren't the verdicts of our feelings-- they are mere bystanders.
Our love was the purest. And I know that you and I will both attest to that.
Our hearts were blank canvases. And we painted ourselves with everything that we felt.
Red for the fiery love we had and all our heated arguments.
Blue for the calmness and comfort we felt and all the tears I cried for you.
Yellow for all the bright smiles we shared and me being scared of losing you.
Green for you being mine and I being yours and the overflowing jealousy that destroyed us both.
Pink for all our sweet nothings and purple for the toxic things we blurted out.
And black,
for the end.
We've painted too much--
blended too much hues that we turned black.
We absorbed too much colors that we forgot to let light in.
We painted each other black, preventing the light of others from seeing the brightness we could give out.
And I know that some people could be smart enough, artistic enough to bring out the light in us again;
But no.
we will never be as blank as before.
No one will ever see our hearts in the purest state it could be and maybe,
that is the reason why I always came back to our love when I feel like too much emotions are going to make my heart explode.
Because you are the only one who saw me in nothingness.
You loved me in my purest state and I would always go back to that.
I would always want to go back to the person I was before all shit happened-- and you
are my constant reminder that I was once a blank canvas.
But no matter what happens,
I know that someone would love my heart-- blank or not,
and appreciate me as if I'm the most precious art he has ever seen.
And if that someone isn't you,
I would just want to thank you
for starting to paint me.
And thus now, black is my new purest state. Blank black.
Boy you had me at my purest state, but you gave me a much better blank canvas to start with.
A black canvas where finally a new white light could streak in.
