Despair

The look on his face was devestating. It would have made any person melt in their own tears.

His eyes were a dull gray instead of their normal dusty blue, which showed me that he was holding back his desperation. They had puffy pink rings around them. He had been crying.
His skin was normally a honey tan because he worked with the other men outside. But today, it had a gray sheen to it, like his eyes. He had absolutely no color to him today except the black on his shirt and jeans, and the rich red of his lips that she used to love. Of course, I could not criticize him today. I looked just as bad. But then again, since when did looks matter? When was the last time they had?
Today was her birthday...
I walked closer to him, so that he could see me now. I also had rings around my eyes and that gray shadow about me.
I looked around because he didnt want to look me in the eye. I saw lots of greens. Deep greens with many layers that belonged to the pine trees and then the kind of brown-green of thr grass that was obviously not well kept. I made a mental note to fix that later. There were also many grays, but not the sad kind, not really. They were the color of headstones. And dont pretend for one second you dont know that color. That mix of granites with a glossy streak over it. That sparkly, yet dismal color.