There is no Color

Withering willows and gentle breezes, leaves falling and moving seasons. Life once had a shape and an enchantment, but lately everything feels as though it's turned into ashes. The sky no longer holds its whimsical blue, a reflection of the water in the ocean I grew up next to. I stare at the sky and wonder what happened to it all? Why does everything look so dull now? Even as I pass amongst the trees and touch the bark beneath my palms it’s lost that toothsome texture I once used to endure. Something I could easily grip and climb to the very top and exclaim with my whole chest “I’m king of the willow!” A toothy grin missing that was still growing, an enthusiasm and a dream in their heart that the world is their playground. And one day they’ll reach the summit and all will see the prestige and prowess of a prodigy make-believer.

However, this world is cruel to the imaginative. The moment you show the hint of a new hue, the vibration of vibrance, any, and everything tainted in monochrome, black, and white, will come swooping in to remind you that here? There is no color. To be different is a death sentence. To love genuinely, to keep your heart on your sleeve, to embrace childlike whimsy; it’s asking for someone to wound you. It’s begging someone to reach into the deepest cavity in your chest to pull out what flows crimson in your veins, what makes you, YOU.

There is no color.

The willow lost its cool browns and swampy greens, the ground is just mud and mushrooms, the sky is just dull, gray. When you’re born into a world with so much hope, fed into your brain that you have the capacity to do anything and conquer all, only to have that color swiped away, erased, taken advantage of; it’s hard to think in color again. Weaving through the willow I see an edge, an opening, maybe if I cross this threshold I’ll finally find some color. Finally find my purpose. Maybe, if I check all of these boxes off and meet these requirements to get to the other side I’ll FINALLY be free from this gray world. I won’t wonder what shade of purple, my shoes are or what foundation matches my skin; if I’m dark, light, medium, if my eyes are blue, green, brown, gray.

Isn’t everyone gray?

When my hand barely reached towards the exit, I could feel bliss enter my mind. A shot of dopamine that I hadn’t experienced in who knows how long. Light engulfs me in the only other tone I knew, white. Bright, encompassing, and filled with warmth I yearned for my whole life. That same burst of energy I once had climbing the willow and reaching for the stars. That old feeling of glee, a joy that I could never contain. I finally felt at home, together with my creator.

I’m home.

When my eyes open and I look around it’s the same four walls I had grown accustomed to. No more willows, no more rivers, the closest thing to a breeze I could feel against me was the struggling A/C unit trying with all its might to keep me cool at night. But now that the sun started to creep through the blinds I’m reacquainting with reality. Dull gray, reality. The same gray furniture, the same black and white curtains, the same dark door. It’s a struggle to get out of bed after all of that. My heart is still back at the willow tree, but life continues to move forward. I have to move forward. If not for me, but for those around me.

When I take a step out into the hallway I can hear familiar pitter patter in the kitchen. My daughter; full of so much life and brightness in her eyes that it kills me inside that this world is capable of snuffing that light out. Her smile is contagious as she runs to my side to pull me into the warmest, sweetest hug you could receive in this life and the next. There isn’t a doubt in her mind that today could be the greatest day of her life. With her toothy little grin, two front teeth missing and not a care behind her eyes from the lack of color around her. Or at least, she has yet to realize it. And frankly? I prefer it that way. Keep your color little one. Enjoy your bowl of marshmallow cereal. Tell me about your fantasies and daydreams. I want to know about the prince who saved the princess, the monster you slayed in your pink rose armor as you rode your white stallion into battle. Tell me more about how you slayed the dragon and brought peace amongst the land with your bravery.

Oh, how beautiful it is to still dream, to still see in color, to still hope for a better tomorrow. She inspires my spirit, brings life to my soul, when she trusts me with her deepest and purest of emotions. I can’t remember the last time I could fully embrace myself in the same way she does. Maybe I was just as old as her, older, younger, I just knew she got that color from me. I can see the shades of blue in her eyes, the different tones of brown in her hair, she stands out like no other. And in that moment I felt that familiar fear creep into my chest like a spider crawling delicately across its web. The tips of each leg gently ticking and prickling against my skin like an itch that could never be scratched. My breath is caught, but I won’t allow her to see it. The reality finally hits that she’s going to school. A battlefield I once fought at her age. A battlefield that destroyed me from the inside and quickly taught me how monochrome the world is.

I only pray that she’s as strong as she says she is. Worthy of fighting a dragon and saving the kingdom in her imagination; maybe she can slay the dragon of reality. The very same one that continues to prowl like a lion, searching for prey to consume. I know I’ve taught her well, I’ve shown her all I could that her little mind could grasp. Even now as I walk with her hand in hand to the bus stop and wait with her that fear stakes a claim in my heart. I don’t want her to lose her color, I don’t want her to come home dying inside, crying on my lap and mourning what she once had. That one day she will look in the mirror and finally see what we all are…

Gray.

I cling to the hope that one day we will see a rainbow again. I remember it as clear as day going outside after a rainy morning. The pavement wet, the cars slippery, and right above my head a beautiful rainbow contrasting against the gray sky. It was like seeing a deity come down from the heavens, greeting us with a warm and loving hello. A reminder that this too shall pass and for a brief second I could have sworn I was back up in that willow tree. Arms stretched upwards without a care in the world. And now I get to watch my world walk away into a school bus. She looked back at me nervously, all I could muster out was a mouthed ‘I love you’ to her. She blows me a kiss and I catch it. And that was that. My world, my rainbow, is gone and headed towards new territory.

May you never lose your color sweet girl.

Never lose that spark.