english,
Literary: Still Hoping
"Why do you wear gray all the time? It seems like you are always grieving."
It's funny how a lot of people ask, and how I never answer. It's simply because the story is too long to explain. But if you really want to know what lies beyond my clothing, you're free to read along.
White is life. Black is death. Gray is the in-between.
Yes, I am in fact, grieving. I am grieving the loss of someone I used to know.
I have lost him. I have lost the person he used to be and though he is not yet dead, he is to me.
I miss his smile, his laughter, and his eyes. Even his hair isn't the way it used to be. His glasses, his hands, his lips and his skin, will they ever be the same?
He's still out there, somewhere, alive and breathing. But the one I long for is long gone and missing.
Since the day I lost him, everything became gray. The sky, the music, the sunshine... the color of his laughter, the texture of his smile, the liquid in his bottles, the blade he always keeps in his front pocket, and the smoke that comes out of his every cigarette.
Gray reminds me of the person he used to be, the one who showed me the vibrant colors of the horizon, the one who introduced me to each and every star. The boy who once caught all the raindrops of every sad cloud and watered each flower we passed by. The boy who sang off-key to the melodies of the wind. The boy who taught me to smile with the moonbeams. The boy who shared with me every sunset that ever meant anything and everything to me.
Gray reminds me of love.
Gray reminds me of love that I have lost.
Gray is quiet. Gray is gentle and understanding. It is simple and lonely. It may be sad, but it makes me feel safe.
And most of all, gray is the hope that black will not take over. Gray is proof that I still believe we'll meet again and the hope that the world will have color once more.
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