It’s the color she used to hate—the one she despised a lot. At first, it was dull and it looked empty to her, but as time went on, what was once worthless and absolutely nothing became more than what she could ever think of it. You see, it’s what she thought was nothing but the most lifeless of life.
But that wasn’t her final opinion of it. It was then, but no longer now because she finally understood it. She finally opened her eyes in ways that were impossible for her in the past. What was dead became alive. What was dull became more and more appealing to her. Why? Because she ended up knowing what it really meant.
It’s now the color she sees whenever she closes her eyes to sleep. Sometimes, she sleeps just to end the day and forget what happened. She sleeps so that the tears will stop.
It’s the color she sees when the pain’s too much and waters from rivers appear on her face. In order to make them disappear, she closes the floodgate. And then there is stillness and silence.
It’s the color she searches for whenever there’s a funeral. She needs it to show respect even though she doesn’t really know the significance of being able to wear clothes with such color. She believes it as a verification of her willingness to feel for the sorrowful and the eternally asleep.
It’s the color of the night sky whenever she looks outside her window because of not being able to sleep. During that time, she is struggling to know if the color is of beauty, sadness or comfort.
It’s the color of shadows of people. Sometimes, she’d realize that some shadows are darker, bigger and more intimidating. She’ll either ignore them or crumble to fear.
It’s the color of mystery. It’s the color that confuses her. It is the color that pushes her away and pulls her back to life. It is the color that makes her realize and understand what cannot be easily realized and understood.
Not all dark things are mainly for the disappearance of life. Sometimes, they are the very reminder that something existed—joy, pain, life, death, light, darkness, soul, shadow… They are the marks of history. They are the continuation of an ending. They are life itself.
And so, she believes that it is the color of life on a rewind.