It’s her favorite color, a part of her nickname that she insists everyone call her. It’s the color of your cheeks when she makes you the exception, and the color of hers when somebody points out that you're the only one who calls her by her real name, Jieqiong. It’s the color of a blossoming friendship- one that you wish could turn into something more.

It’s the notes you pass between each other during class. Her pens and highlighters all carrying the same signature colored ink. It’s her small smiles when she looks at the doodles in your notebook, and her pout when you beat her at arbitrary games of tic tac toe. It’s the color of the stationary you write your love notes on- the notes that never quite make it to her desk for one reason or another.

It’s the fluttering feeling you get when you see her across the hallway. With open wide unapologetically laughing at something undoubtedly hilarious said by a close friend. It’s the embarrassment you feel when your best friend teases you about your obvious crush. It’s the blush you try to hide when she catches your stare- it’s the blush you miss while you’re looking down.

It’s the color of the flowers you give her on valentine's day. Accompanied by a classic box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Butterflies swarm in your stomach, you’re inexperienced when it comes to dating so you’re not sure what to do. It’s the amusement on her face as you stutter out your confession. Your nerves getting the best of you. It’s the tenderness in her eyes as she gives you a look of understanding- the smile on your face when she says yes.

It’s in the sunset as you walk her home. The color of cotton candy clouds in various hues and shades. There’s a sense of hesitation as your hand bumps hers but you manage to interlock them together and to your satisfaction they fit. It’s the feeling of ecstasy, you’re so happy you could fly. It’s how lucky you feel in that moment, you hope she feels just as happy as you do- you hope you can make her happy.

It’s the cherry blossoms that fall from the sky during your date. Strawberry ice cream sweet on your tongue. It’s the affection you feel as your heart swells in your chest when she looks up at you with doe eyes. It’s the shy glances you give each other right before and it’s the quickening of your pulse during. The kiss she leaves on your lips, just as sweet as the ice cream, if not more. It’s her soft voice asking for another kiss and it’s the gentle way you oblige. It’s the promise you make- and intend to keep.

It’s the literal physical weakness that you have for her. It’s not fair in any way how much you would do for her if asked. If she would just ask. It’s how playful she can be when it’s just you two alone in the comfort of your room, tickle fights less than completely innocent. It’s the feeling of contentment that washes over you when she snuggles up to you- when you're in each other’s arms.

It’s the relief that came with the acceptance after telling your parents. You know you probably could have done it alone, but she was there for you every step of the way nonetheless.  It’s the promise that she makes, to stay by you through thick and thin. It’s how you take that promise to heart - how secure her words make you feel.

It’s the thought in your mind. One that has been nagging you for a while. The one telling you that this feeling was definitely forever. It’s the color of a more romantic side. One you seem to have developed over the course of your relationship. It’s the color of the gem you buy, an unconventional color -but you know she’ll love it just as much as you love her.

It’s the feeling you get when you say her name, now so much stronger than the first time. Its the flood of warmth that rushes through you when she says yours back.  It’s the color of her skin, washed in the glow of the afterlight. It’s how beautiful she is in that moment- she’s always beautiful but that night she is particularly breathtaking.

It’s the memories of that night fresh in your mind as you go about your work the next day and it’s the color of your eraser as you backtrack because you’ve been daydreaming about her smile. It’s in your eyes as you wave goodbye to your coworkers. It’s the color of your lock screen because it’s a reminder of what- who, is waiting for you at home.

It’s the color of the flowers you send her on her birthday, an apology note attached. Your business trip overseas was extended and you’re a key part in the negotiation process so you can’t leave. It’s the flirty text messages she sends at night, hints of what she has planned for when you come back. It’s the scent of a new perfume that envelops your senses when she hugs you. It’s different and you know it- but when you ask her about it she doesn’t know what your talking about.

It’s the color of your pillows and bed sheets because she insisted that she decorated the bedroom. It’s the serene look on her sleeping face as you try not to wake her. It’s the strawberry smoothie she makes for you in the morning made with love and accompanied by breakfast in bed. Unexpected but not unwelcome. It is not the color of the look that you recognize as guilt in her eyes. You brush it off- she can never be guilty in your eyes.

It’s your coworkers after a few rounds of karaoke. Your team has just finished a big project and you're celebrating with them. The color of the sunsets you missed because of late nights at the office.  It’s the tinted glasses that kept you from seeing the bad, from seeing what might have been obvious warning signs to anyone else. There’s been a shift in your relationship but you choose to ignore it because it didn’t seem like the right time- it’s never the right time.

Your love's color changes to something different the moment you realize confronting her would be too painful. Loving her has become painful. It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s an imprint of the color of lipstick that stains her left cheek  - a shade that was darker, that you didn’t own

It’s the disapproving look you give her, when she stumbles in drunk at two in the morning. It was supposed to be a night you shared together but she had gone out with friends again.  It’s the alarm that sounds off when it registers that you’ve never met these new friends. It’s the fear creeping inside of you- you’re losing her.

It’s the color of the devil on your shoulder,whispering into your ears filling you with doubts and insecurities. It’s the reject call button that you press when her name lights up on your screen. It’s the late hours of work you bury yourself into to avoid having to address the unspoken. It’s the bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. You claim it’s the work that’s keeping you up- it’s not.

It’s a wine bottle opened up and a table set for two. Except dinner has already been eaten and not by you. It’s the shake in her voice when she tells you she had a friend over. It’s the lies that you let her tell to placate your unease. It’s the battle you have with yourself- you know you can’t keep ignoring this for much longer.

It was the flush on her face when you showed up at home early. Her hair mussed and the bed sheets in disarray. A window leading to the fire escape uncharacteristically open. It’s the tension in the air as she looks at you from behind worried that you might’ve caught on. You have, a long time ago. It’s the ignorance you feign - you’re trying to hold on even though she’s let go.

It’s the frustration and anger when fights are started for the smallest of reasons. The need to defend yourself when she says you’re not trying enough, not caring enough, when really you care so much it hurts. It’s how hypocritical she sounds- you’re about to snap but you manage to reign yourself back in.

It’s your lips as they crash into hers, hungry and needy from long nights of neglect. It’s how she slams you into the wall, hands roaming with reckless abandon. It’s the blemish you leave on her neck as last ditch effort to mark your territory. The scars that run down your back as she claws hers. It’s the searing passion you both release in that night- it’s the lingering feeling that those nights were numbered.

It’s the strobe lights in the club you’re in. You try to see what it is that she finds so appealing in this room. It’s the burn of alcohol down your throat and the lustful eyes you spot in the crowd directed towards you. It’s curves that dance against your body, strangers that grind on you under the dim light. It’s pounding music and heated stares. It’s the pant of your breath as you excuse yourself for air. It’s how you rush home before you can do anything you regret - it’s knowing she wouldn’t, didn’t, do the same.

It’s the fights escalated to full on screaming matches. The venom in her voice as she hits all the right points to break you.  It’s the hot tears that run down your face as you scream equally vicious words back. It’s the accusation that falls from your lips. You know she hasn’t been faithful. It’s the devastation you feel when she doesn’t deny it. It’s the blame you place on yourself, the question in the back of your mind- where did we go wrong?

It’s the desperation in her eyes when she pleads with you to stay. You never thought it was possible for her to be this selfish, to be so cruel. It’s the memories of her repeated, unforgivable actions that push you away. Yes, there’s the part of her that still loves you. You know that, but it wasn’t strong enough to overcome her lust. It’s the distrust that will always follow you through relationships because of her. It’s the heartbreak when the choice comes down to you- you’re the one ending it.

It’s the sound of the door when you close it on your way out. Anger gone and replaced by an emptiness. Your things packed in a duffel bag and thrown into the back seat of your car. It’s the overwhelming anguish and hurt felt at her betrayal. It’s the sound of sobs wracking through your body as you sit in the darkness. It’s wasted time and effort of 6 years together - and all you’re left with is an overall feeling of sorrow that sits in the pit of your stomach.

It’s the color of the text that appears on your screen- stark against the white background. It’s how alone you feel despite words of comfort. It’s the pity in your best friends eyes when you show up on her doorstep, no place else to stay. Trails of dark mascara running down your face would almost be comical had the situation not been so tragic.

It was her role in your life, when all things were unclear she’d be there, a shining beacon to guide you home. She filled it with colors and brightness, but now that she’s gone your heart is bare and desolate. It’s the new vow you make, to keep yourself safe, to make sure you’d never let anyone  break you again, the same way she did.

It’s when you ceased to feel emotion- when your heart turned to stone.

a/n: I tried describing three colors here, getting darker in hue as the story saw fit. I tried to make the shift obvious but if it wasn't, meh... feedback and comments are appreciated