This is kind of an introduction so there is need for an explanation.

Enjoy 🙂

 

Nava.

 

Last week someone asked me what my favorite color was. I said blue. 

 

Blue can be anything, right? The cold autumn air, the ocean water painting the skies, the taste of the sweetest of things. But in truth, blue isn’t the nicest of colors. I can go as far as to say I hate it. I hate how it looks back at me, staring for a bit too long. It makes my skin crawl. Or how she gives me the cold shoulder when I try to tell her I miss her, in my own way. I’m starting to think that she doesn’t need her family, or at least not me. 

Or how he suffocates my words with the smoke of his cigarettes. 

Mom is starting to look a bit too tired, don’t you think? I think when you are losing a child like she is you just don’t feel the same. I wish that wasn’t the case.

But it’s ok, because I’m still here for her.

 

Last week I got nervous, I don’t know why, but I guess that’s just how I am. My lips felt heavy and my words shy. I was being timed, like always. I had to say something.

 

I can’t say I hate blue when I lie about it. I am so bored of blue. Bored of this dullness. Of sowing my mouth shut to make them feel like I like blue. To let them think that I’m ok with it. They trusted me, so now they believe I like blue. I am expected to like blue.

Now, I am forced to like blue. 

 

Last week I realized I don’t have a favorite color. But now they think it is blue.