The Colour of Your Heart

I had no intention of writing this. 

But words have failed me time and time again and I find myself stuttering in your presence. I don’t feel comfortable in your presence and I continued to avoid your eyes. They always say eyes are windows to the soul. 

Yet when I look into your eyes, all I see is the anger and disgust in them. 

All directed towards me. 

I know you are a good person somewhere deep down, but life has failed you so many times that you have built a wall around yourself. I don’t blame you. Still that wall has gotten so tall that everyone around you fears that it’ll tip over one day and crush them. So they keep their distance. 

That’s why I kept mine, because there was no end to it. 

Every single morning I almost dread coming into work, my alarm would blare into my ear making me jerk awake. I would settle down into my bed as the morning light snuck through the blinds of my window. It bathed my room with a faint yellow glow. 

I let out a sigh as I forced myself to get up, I still couldn’t bring myself to look at myself in the mirror when I entered the bathroom. Even in the corner of my eye I could see the dark circles forming under my eyes and puffiness in them. “Shit.” I muttered. 

I rubbed my eyes as I quickly washed up, desperate to leave behind what I had seen in the mirror. A quiet buzz filled my room as I reached down for my phone on my desk. A smile instantly spread across my face. 

Good Morning baby. 

The only person grounding me in this internal battle. While the war was out in the real world the moment I stepped through those doors. I can feel myself walking around eggshells waiting for your arrival. Any moment now you’d walk in through those doors and greet everyone else so brightly and ignore me as if I was nothing more than a speck. 

I often find myself asking myself was I the lint on your shoulder that bothered you whenever you saw me? What have I done to you to make you dislike me so much? I sighed softly, taking customers orders and returning their tickets back to the chef on the line. 

You knew it was bad when the chef notices how badly you’re being treated. I often found the chef giving her a side glare whenever she walked by. It always made me smile knowing someone else sees what I see. 

It was like a cloud of darkness wrapped around you like a blanket, the moment we tried to get close we’d be struck by lightning that would lash out at anyone at any given time. I watched as you gave the customers fake smiles and greeted them, passing around coffee with your chin held high. Even for someone so small, there was no hiding that the shirt you wore was too big for you to grasp. 

Still out of the kindness of my own heart, I tried to ease your worries and stress and continued to overwork myself. “Where the hell is Abigail?” One of the servers hissed. 

It was the lunch rush, I only sighed loudly as I grabbed more plates from the line to run out before returning to do it again. I can hear the whispers of the customers all murmuring under their breaths about how bad the manager was. 

If only they knew. 

I always tried to put myself in other people’s shoes, to better understand how others think and feel. Even if I couldn’t understand their feelings entirely, if they knew that what they felt was valid, it made them feel heard. So I always lent an ear for all of my coworkers whenever they needed to vent. 

“Can you believe he actually cheated on me with that girl he told me not to worry about? His friend!” Vicki scoffed, scrolling through her phone as her nails tapped over the screen. 

I only shook my head, “You know you deserve better. Besides, he was too ugly for you. People like that who get with someone who is out of their league think they can get away with anything.” 

“I know you’re right, and I know I deserve better.” She sighed. 

If only Abigail took my advice. Except she was the one who was the ugly one here. I still tried to be that friend to her years ago, listening to all the problems she had. Until she started to drag me down that same path with her. 

I didn’t like the person I saw myself becoming. 

It was almost like a plague, the infection spreading across my veins and creeping into my system until I could no longer recognize myself. I had become so sickly that I had to distance myself from Abigail. 

I felt bad that I never gave her an explanation why, but she assumed everything herself and saw how I’d flinch whenever she reached out to me. As if the poison that oozes out of her would infect me once more. 

But I wasn’t paying attention to see how deep her talons had gotten underneath my skin. 

It was almost every single day she would vanish during work hours when we needed her help the most. The head chef had enough of her bullshit, it wouldn’t be long before the owner of the restaurant pulled them into her office to speak to her. 

Since then, her attitude changed towards me. 

It was even worse. 

The silent treatment was like an icy cold winter with the snow pelting at me in every direction. It had gotten to the point where I had enough. 

“What do you mean you changed my schedule? Don’t you have to sit down with me before you make that decision?” I asked her, I can see the way her eyes were boring into mine and all I saw was rage. 

I had put her on the spot. In front of everyone. “Well it says on your application you were available on those days.” 

I blink. Once, twice. “That was from years ago? I didn’t think you guys kept applications for that long.” I was trying to rack my brain, what had I put on my application? Then I remembered, I was in college during that time. 

I had only worked on the weekends before I finally graduated two years after. 

I can feel my whole body grow hot with rage, everyone can see how angry and upset I was. In front of everyone she looked down at me, even if I was the only one standing at that moment. If it wasn’t for the table in front of me, who knows what I could have done. 

“We have to tell the owner,” I said, my hands were itching and I continued to rub them against my pants trying to calm myself down. 

“For what,” My cousin hummed, taking a drag from his joint, “Not like it’ll matter at the end.” 

“We still have to try.” 

Or else our voices would continue to not be heard and we would continue to play into her little game. I had never been great at speaking out my feelings, it had always been hard to express myself without my words coming out jumbled. But we needed to be heard. 

“She went as far as to tell everyone that it didn’t matter if we showed up, that it was going to benefit her.” I explained, quoting the words Abigail had said during that meeting with all the coworkers. 

I can hear the scribble of a pen across paper as the owner wrote notes down of what was said. If she was disappointed, she hid it well. 

Yet her aura had always been more than welcoming. 

Still I can see the way your whole body language said another thing, we were all pulled into the office once more. Not a single word was said to me in greeting, so I didn’t say anything back. I thought I could be the bigger person if I even uttered the word hello, but my throat was already tight from nervousness that I couldn’t even speak. 

It was like your very hands were wrapped around my neck trying to squeeze the life out of me from the other side of the room. I stumbled over my words even then. You thought you had won when you saw me break down in front of everyone. 

Crazy how you already knew prior how unstable I was and still I hear that you bragged about making mad. 

“I’m sorry. If I came out any sort of way…” I said, tears still rolling down my cheeks as I try to push them back with my fingers. 

I knew I held my heart on my sleeve, I showed you sincerity and vulnerability and yet you just stared me down with that look of disdain in your eyes. 

The whispers of anxiety had already muttered in my ear, “She doesn’t care.” 

You don't care if I apologize for anything. 

“Morning Angela.” Abigail said, almost forcefully. 

“Morning Abigail.” I said kindly, hoping for my tone to reach your ears. 

Yet I still watched from around the corner you flipping your hair and walking from me. I knew I may hold my heart on my sleeve, but so did you. 

Your heart that you cradled so close to you that you even felt suffocated. No matter the walls you built up, even you couldn’t see over it to see if anyone who stood on the other side was friend or foe. 

Your heart that was barely holding on, the pieces barely flickering with life and I had seen it. Long before that wall went up. The colour of your heart was slowly dying out with life that you were becoming numb to everything. 

Including yourself. 

You may never see this and if you do, a part of me still hopes that one day we would go back to how things were. When the walls were down and laughter filled the restaurant. When the energy was filled with so much happiness that we could see the glow in everyone’s skin that made the entire place shine bright. 

But I don’t think we’d ever go back to that time until you tear down that wall to let everyone in. I know I would continue to take the hits from you until you see that you’re not hurting me. You’re only hurting yourself.