Meeting her was supposed to brighten my world. It was supposed all the spruce shades of my soul to brighten up.
Maybe if I didn’t expect her to fix me I would have seen it sooner.
First it was the spruce colour. Day after day waking up and going trough all the world had to give me. And then. The evening comes. She texts and suddenly the world is teal.
She managed to turn all my darkness into light, but even she couldn’t change the blue to yellow.
I was fine to be sad, because I was sad with her. She was my teal, my aquamarine, my ocean. She could turn the fog surrounding my brain into cold, but clear navy.
Every text she send made me see my blue little more yellowish. Not true yellow, but close enough for me to believe.
Lie. Illusion. All the shades are blue. Blue is the spruce, blue is the aquamarine.
When she left I learned that no matter how bright you see the blue, it’s still death colour. It’s sadness, it’s loneliness.
It can be as dark as black itself.
In my heart there will always be one aquamarine spot. Smaller then the eyes can see. But that aquamarine is the darkest place of my soul. It’s the place where the colour is fading.
Because the only true blue is the blue itself.
All else is fading of the sadness. Never trust someone that can make the sadness fade so fast.
They surely can put all its weight back on your shoulders in a blink of an eye.
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