It
was quite a peculiar question. The entire globe was a mixture of orange and
brown and red. I looked at Stephanie, surprised by her question. Being the
flattering gentleman that I was, I said, “The earth is brown like your humble
eyes, the daisies as yellow as your hair, the world is white and pure like your
dress because you are my entire world when you’re near.”
She
laughed a little but she cried a lot, not on that particular day but often, and
that was mainly my doing. We grew apart and eventually we both forgot.
What colour is the world today? I had asked
people this question despite hardly considering why or from which part of my
mind the question came from.
I
had met Rayna long after Stephanie. This time I had been the one to cry. It
felt as though that period of my life was spent on a post-apocalyptic island
and I was the last of humanity.
It
would rain each day. It would rain acid. There were no buildings nor trees nor
bushes to crawl beneath. The land was bare, the skies were grey, the ground was
black and I was exposed.
My
heart was heavy and I knew no hope until one day I too was expelled from that
lonely island of murk and misery.
I
carried on, alone, for the longest of times. I was beginning to see the different colours of the world. I forgave past
mistakes and tried to forget the gloomy clouds of grey that gathered over me
and managed to stay despite my attempts at liberation.
It
was a perpetual darkness that towered over me, but I looked ahead knowing that I
would eventually see the light. After a few days the dark cloud would disappear
but as a result of my own weakness a new cloud would emerge in a matter of
hours.
I
would receive the occasional hailstorm and strikes of lightning if ever I made the
mistake of angering the goddesses of the cloud. Alas, even when the goddesses
go searching for a newer servant, the cloud remains and my insecurities grow.
I
had long given up trying to please those who would never be pleased. My life
was to be filled with the psychedelic hues of joy and sovereignty. However, freedom
does come with a price and I was a few pennies and half a heart overdue.
I
knew that I was not good, but I did believe that I was worthy of true joy. It
was the only emotion I felt made life worth something. I had never thought it
possible, until one sunny day, when the skies were clear and the world was
humming approvingly under the guise of an autumn breeze.
I
was in a park. It was sparsely occupied and soon my thoughts explored the
aspects of my life that were good and that meant something to me and hopefully
others. That was when it lifted. The grey clouds that had gathered over me were
blown away as cerulean met verdant.
The
light penetrated my skin so suddenly that I started, but I was comforted
immediately. That was the day that the earth my clouds concealed met the sky.
That was the day I smiled at every passerby with a spring in my step because I
could hardly believe the amount of love and happiness my half a heart was able
to achieve. Soon my past did not matter because I was finally free.
The
debt I owed Jess was every single droplet of my love wrung from very depths of
my existence, and I had nothing to fear because as many blunders as I had made,
she made thousands more each day by offering her love to me.
Hilina Da
Costa Gomez
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