Into the Colors

The Crack in the Earth

God I love the way your voice would crack when you hadn't spoken for a long time. Sometimes it scared me, because I could tell there were Bad days and I knew I couldn't help even if I tried. I felt like the earth had cracked right open when I heard that break in your voice.

Some days you'd look out the window when the sky was black and grey and I'd see how golden your hair was, so opposite in contrast to the dark sky. Then I realized you were the moon in my sky. I was just a far planet relative to you.

I love the way you would tap your foot along to the song as you listened to your headphones all so very loud. My heart would match that pitter patter all too fast. I love how you'd be so engrossed in assembling lyrics, you'd never notice how I stared a little too long to be just a friend.

I adored how your eyes would wonder when I would show you an interesting song. It was like you were memorizing the beat, the lyrics, and the sounds all at once. I to was memorizing how your hair fell around you shoulders and how the sun hit it in all the right angles. It wasn't just golden, it was bronze, white, yellow and all the Happy colors you could imagine.

Sometimes I'd forget my place when I was studying, because I knew I could be looking at you instead of learning the formula for force. All I knew then was that you made me lighter, so so light. In those moments force was nonexistent. I was not the type of light where you feel butterflies in your stomach, no I felt it everywhere.

Before you, my favorite color was black, but then I started painting with shades of blue and green. I could never decide what color your eyes were. Sometimes I'd pick up the yellow paint canister without really realizing, then it hit me. Sometimes, if you got close enough you could see the flecks of stardust in your eyes. That is, if you'd let anyone close enough.

On your bad days your eyes were stormy grey that reminded me of the condensation on the mirror when I got out the shower. I wonder what really happened to those flecks of gold on your bad days?

In English my teacher asked, 'What is your Happy place? Write it down on an index card.'
I carefully selected a white index card, I wrote :

'YELLOW YELLOW YELLOW
GREEN GREEN GREEN
BLUE BLUE BLUE

I'd like to live in world designed by you, YELLOW GREEN BLUE.'

Then again what would happen when there was a Bad day? If there are Bad days then surely there are Happy days? I realized that I didn't care, I adored you with every color. What if there's a such thing as an Perfect day? Where everything is in order and nothing is dull, but it's not bad, but it's never too good.

They were all perfect days to me, even if you didn't feel the same way.