30 November 2014

The world is a colorful place, but it is the people in it that shine like the morning star.

Each person is a color. I'd like to believe that as infinite the numbers in the universe, so are the colors on a spectrum, so are the people of this world. There are no two people who are the same, no two colors that are of the exact same depth or hue or wave. As similar as two people may appear, the most minute alteration in brightness or contrast will birth a new color ever so slightly.

We come from our mothers, are influenced by our fathers, feel inspired by siblings. So as we age and learn, our colors begin to soak in that of others. Shades of green and blue, yellow and red, and you will change.

And when you meet someone new, you introduce new color into your life. And when you love that person, you immerse yourself in that color, becoming completely drenched in it. You bask in this color. You absorb it. And slowly, who you are becomes blurred by hues that were never your own.

So what does it mean to lose this person? To death, throughout time, over heartbreak?

You will never rid yourself of this color. You are forever dyed in someone else. It's a beautiful yet tragic thing. To be tinged so deeply by someone at one moment of your life while you try so hard to deny it and expunge it the next.

I have been blessed to meet a myriad of individuals who have in their own ways colored my life to look more vibrant. With them, I have felt love and sadness, peace and bitterness. I know what it means to laugh and cry at the same time by their side. I know what it feels like to be so utterly alone but still feel embraced by them.

Many have come, many have left. Yet I am still here, now a blend of such strange hues. It's harder to identify what parts are truly of myself and which have been influenced by others. But all in all, this is who I am. So I will learn to own every inch of me. Every fluorescent shade, I will master. And in the end, I will be my own shade, my own color, my own, I will be me.