"There is a reason we don't see the world in black and white." (Celerie Kemble)

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Colours. So many different shades, a fervent flourish of hues spread across the canvas we call Earth. Everyone had their colour, and although it was interesting to observe at first, it became a burden fast. As I got older, the colours became more noticeable.

It didn't take long to see what they meant. Granted, it seemed ridiculous to almost everyone I told, getting nothing but judging glances and dismissing grunts in return. How ridiculous, they must've thought, for an eighteen-year-old to make up such fairy tales. I wouldn't call it a superpower per se, but in some ways I was like a superhero, only completely useless in protecting the world.

I didn't need others to tell me it was ridiculous. I knew it was, but could I do anything about it? Nope. Nada. They were a part of me, a theoretical extra arm or leg.

Oh yeah. Back to what I was saying about what they meant. Most of the time when I came across a couple strolling on the street, they would have identical colours. I don't wanna say I'm jumping to conclusions with anything, but I had seen enough happy partners hand in hand to realise matching colours meant soulmates. And if you were a couple with different colours, well...let's just say there wasn't ever gonna be a happy ending for you. Just like my green mom and violet dad. Good riddance to that marriage; they told me way too many times they only put up with each other for my sake. I loved them both, sure, but I couldn't stand to see them tear their hair out trying to maintain a stable relationship whilst practically loathing each other. Never would've thought colours could cause so much goddamn trouble. But I digress.

Thanks to Sir Puberty himself, I found myself looking out more and more for people who shared the same shade of red I did. I know nowadays we romanticise the idea of love, but the heart wants what the heart wants, however cliché. I was a thriving teen bordering on adulthood, graduating high school in a number of months I could count on one hand. Staying on the lookout for girls was something everyone would do if they were me, God forbid curiosity killing the cat.

At this point, I've long realised I'm ranting, most likely to a blank wall. Whatever, I need to get this out. Thanks for listening, blank wall.

You see, I was a fingernail's length close to giving up on the whole idea of love after meeting way too many people with different co