yellow

"I've looked, I swear, I just can't see the beauty in it."

-Luca Fogale, You Tried

I woke up early today. You were still in a deep slumber, mouth half-ajar, your dirty blond hair a bird's nest on your sleep-warmed head. I used to run my fingers through it, I used to kiss it.

We used to wake up at the same time. I kissed you goodbye and awaited your return every evening. Now you walk out the door without so much as a glance.

We used to laugh, do you remember? Your jokes were as bad as your father's. I loved them.

I feel the bed squeak, watch your tired face give in to the morning. We stopped dreaming years ago.

You look up at me, you don't smile. I can't.

I sit there, tangled in the sweaty sheets as you sit up, rub your eyes, and drag yourself off the bed. You turn on the shower. I try to breath.

Today is blue. A navy color, with spots of aquamarine like the dotted ocean floor. You are grey. I am black.

Do you remember when we saw the colors? The bright ones? They were like our link. Our link is an some invisible color now.

You turn off the shower. You get out. I continue to sit still. Maybe if I'm still you'll see me. Maybe if I scream you'll look at me.

I hate it, and I hate you, and I hate our damp, warm bed. I hate your lovely smile that now only comes out of hiding when I'm not around. I hate your lovely body, and my ugly one. I miss you.

We went to church once, do you remember? I could relate. You couldn't. I tried to go without you, but then they ask. And what do I tell them?

Should I stay quiet like you want me to? Do you want me to be quiet?

I remember the day we met, do you remember? I was nineteen, you were twenty-one. We were confident, we were stupid. We wanted to travel the world and live on the run. We wanted to have seven kids, and take them with us wherever we went.

That was before I got sick. The pain got worse. There were no children. There was no traveling. I lived in a world of medicine and early bedtimes and nausea. I threw up. You held my hair and massaged my aching back. You quit your job and spent your days with me, watching all the movies in the world. We got a smaller house. I got better. No I didn't.

The bathroom door opens, you walk out. I stay in bed. You open our closet, throw on a shirt. I watch your lean, tanned muscles stretch when you lift your arms to guide it over your head. I stop watching.

Our love is a yellow color. Not a bright yellow, a sick yellow. A disgusting, beautifully broken yellow. I hate you. I miss you.

You're dressed now, walking out from the closet and heading towards the door. Do you want me to say something? Do you want me to make the yellows brighter? Would you help me if I tried?

I hear your heavy footfalls as you head downstairs.

I don't believe in love.

We loved each other, do you remember? You kissed me like I was your only hope of surviving, like I was your lifeline. And you were mine. You were gentle, pressing down on all the right places. You were home. You were a bright yellow. You were a beautiful, awful, yellow.

I get out of bed. I want to see you. I race down the stairs. It's raining. How had I not noticed it before? I don't care. I yank the front door open and run outside. Your car is pulling out. My heart sinks. It sinks... it sinks.... it sinks.....

I'd never seen you cry before. We sat in moldy chairs, wearing black, and you cried your beautiful eyes out. I held your hand, I kissed your cheek. But it ruined you. He was your papa. And he was gone. You stopped talking as much.

But you stop. You stop and back up. You pull into the driveway. You get out.

I'm in a movie. I'm in a dream. You walk over to me cautiously, beads of rain falling down your face. You timidly hold out your hands in front of you like I'm some sort of scared animal. Think better of it.

I can't speak, but I need to, I need to, I need to. "No." I breath at last. It catches you by surprise. "What?"

"No." Tears are falling now, body is shaking now, knees are failing to keep me up, and I'm falling and-

and you catch me. You hoist me into your strong, gentle arms and you're carrying me into our ugly yellow home. And you're heading for the couch but I wriggle free. You let go of me and suddenly I'm all over you.

I hug you so hard it hurts. And you hold me back- oh, you're holding me back and I'm sobbing and I'm screaming and I don't know what to do with myself anymore.

I'm lost in a world of greys and blacks and I don't know where to turn. It's so empty.

But then you're there. And you're a yellow. You're a bright, vibrant, beautiful yellow, and suddenly, I need to feel you and touch you and kiss you.

So that's what I do.

I never want to be away from you ever again. I missed you like you miss your dad. I missed the way you kissed me like you would die if we broke away for just a moment. I missed your gentle hands. I missed you, oh, I missed you.

But you're here now.

We're on the floor, tangled in arms and limbs and wet, slow kisses. And I love you.

And together, we are a beautiful yellow.