I don't feel things anymore. Everything is pretense like a mask on my face I feel with my head I can't find my heart anywhere. I'm doing what I'm supposed to do , I'm going with the motions, that's all I'm doing. I'm alive , I survived but I feel just gray. Its not peaceful, it’s tumultuous, mundane gray. I crave color. The oranges of new things, the blues of sadness and the pretty pinks of fun. I crave the purples of falling asleep on call and the greens of laughing together at the stupidest things , I crave the yellows of careless joy and the whites of pure blissful trust. I crave color and the only place I know where to find it was one year ago.
So I went back, to find my colors and it was only when I was so close to the mirror when I realised, that the color had never been because of him. I had made it up, the whole painting was mine, his canvas looked like it had never seen me at all. So I brought back my painting, and framed it on a wall, its there, but I don’t look at it anymore. The colors will come, someday they will. Until then, I’ll sit here with my coffee browns and dark greens.