Lost in Translation

Blue by Wisteria Whyte

It is the color of the sky on the day you two meet. It is the color of her eyes; so vivid, you see yourself reflected in them. It is the way she laughs, a flower blooming in the desert. It is the title of the Joni Mitchell album she makes you listen to. You hate it at first, but she explains what extraordinarily soul- baring work it is, and because it belongs to the girl you love you begin to think it's beautiful. It is the color of the dress she wears when you realize, from halfway across the room, that you love her. It is the color of the enchanted gauzy twilight where you two first kiss.
It is the color of your mood. It is the color of the cornflowers, the incense, the pills, the healing stones she gave you to mend your broken heart. It is the color of you missing the girl before this one, because she was more familiar. It is the color of your constant criticism. It is the color of her always asking "Is there anything I can do?" It's the color of you putting her on a shelf and using her when you need her.
It is the color of the sun on the day you leave her. It is the color of your texts when you got drunk and needed a pick up, and so you used this girl's love for you because it fueled your ego. It is the color of you giving her false hope. It is the color of her making sure not to cry in front of you, because she knows you will dismiss her. It is the stain on your shirt when she tells you you will never get her back. It is the color that bounces behind your eyes when you realize she means it this time.
It is the color of a love you mistreated and lied to and never had time for, the color of a girl you thought wasn't enough because you couldn't control her, when her free spirit was why you loved her. To you it is the color of your deepest mistake. To her it is the color of realizing she was worth fighting for. To everyone else, it is the color blue.