Colours

pink

Being in love with you was pink.

Pink like my cheeks when you complimented me, making me smile wider and my eyes shine.
Making my heart pump blood through my veins as if it was in a hurry. In a hurry to spread joy in my body, love, warmth. Not leaving a single trace of darkness in it, giving butterflies the opportunity to build a home. Giving them space to fly whenever I listened to love songs, felt your touch or whenever somebody said your name.

Pink like the flamingos we once saw at the zoo. Watching them with so much caution and interest, studying everything you could, trying to understand  how they were able to stand on one leg, what they liked and what they looked like when they flew high above the ground.
I still remember the way your laugh filled the whole room when you read that they were only pink because of the shrimps they eat. The way your head fell back and the sunlight shone on your face, still not being able to compete with the light you brought into my life.

Pink like the blossoms of the tree in the park near my house. Like the little flower you picked for me, because you knew how much I liked them. Putting them in my hands, trusting me with taking care of it. Like the park in which you asked me to be your girlfriend, making me feel as if I was floating. Collecting all the pieces and finally being whole again.

Being in love with you was pink.