Can you picture a day where the sun was no longer the sun but just a blinding glow in the sky? What about if the sea was no longer blue, but just a pool of shadows? All that you see would be gone and life would be replaced with a dull gray. You would constantly be reminded of the scent of rain and asphalt. I see objects as light, some brighter than others. There’s no excitement to me when I watch the sun rise with its colors of pride and glory, or when it sets with a cape of vibrant hues. I see merely for the act of doing so, and not to see nature’s blessing and grace and other wonders of color. But when everything is a blind carbon copy of another, then there’s nothing special. That was my life, before I saw you.

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            I remember the sky was crystal clear that day, just a bleak pale shade painted over and above the horizon. The temperature drop told me that autumn had arrived. People tell me that the transition of colors in the leaves would tell you so, but I never realized there was a change to notice. I had bundled myself in some coat, that had a shade I was unaware of as I sat on a park bench. The wind was rustling the trees, and my eyes mirrored the very movement. My therapist recommended that I go out often, to at least appreciate the sight of people. But what was the point if they all looked the same to me; a sight no different than the person next to them. Everything came in splotches of gray and occasional blacks that blended seamlessly into one another. It was nothing new, as it just reminded me of light with a dapple of darkness.

            There was a slight tingle at the right corner of my eye, pulling them towards that direction. My breath instantly caught at my throat, as my eyes widened at the sight of you.

            I had once hoped I would be able to describe things if I could see them as they are, instead of a bland supplement. But here you are, a burst of unimaginable pigments, and I couldn’t put you into words. If I was to describe you, I would say you looked like warm light. I had felt a warmth nipping at my skin when I looked at you, as if you were a barrier for the cold that so often surrounded me. You were a tint of light radiating, more than the sun could ever glow, and more than the moon could ever glimmer in the twilight. My eyes traveled across your porcelain face. It looked…looked like glass. It was impeccable, pristine, as if my touch would crack the beauty. But I thought that if I touched it, it would feel like cream. A buttery texture that was emanating a warm bright glow. Your cheeks looked stained, like something was h