Black and white

As long as I can imagine, I felt different, so different.
I could feel my black and white dyed heart beating in my chest, is it beating strong enough? Nothing in between, nothing else. It’s like knowing colors only from narratives. I never felt out of place, but never in the right place either.

Nothing ever was too little, but never enough.
I remember the feeling of my confusion when I suddenly felt color. As warm as light, so pulsating like the blood in my veins, my pulse was loud. My heart running a marathon, full speed.

Suddenly I knew you were my missing something. The color to my black and white. To my dark and pale. There was color. The color did not gradually interfere, it came like a storm. I can almost grasp, touch, hear, taste, feel it. Right there, for real. This color in me. Like a puzzle to which a part was missing, however, this was the crucial part.

My dark side tells me: “Never, you’re dreaming! Stop it, it’ll only cause damage! “

My bright side is inconsistently telling me: “That could work, he in my life, me in his.”

The color in me says day by day:
“Yes, this is what I truly want, every nuance and every difficulty in dark blue, every heartache and longing in green colors, the desire is blood-red, pulsating, frightening, burning. The fear that all this goes by, somehow, bright colors, haunting me like in a nightmare.”

This love in me, the most beautiful colors. Forever, feeling it all, all these colors. Yes, that is exactly what I want. Forever and after. All colors, everything from you, the whole me, just for you.

I repeat myself, I love you, because of you, I am finally myself. The real me. The whole color play, on which the influences of the world just bounce off. Yes, step by step, I figure, I could start to like this world. You and me, in this world.

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