It is the shade in which lovers see. A filter of that specific hue from their first summer sunset together lingers in their eyes; through which they see each other at orgasmic heights of adoration, no matter the time of day.
You see, love is represented by this shade because it is passion at either end of the spectrum. At the dawning side of the drenched skyline is an affectionate brushing of lips, fingers intertwined and skin on skin. Soft laughter and lustful eyes. Towards the other side is crackling fireworks against the star-studded night, rough kisses and the release of time spent pining for the other. Pressed against each other like it’s the only thing that matters, tangled in sheets and moans and limbs until you feel him in your bones long after he’s done.
It lasts longer than a Snapchat but the time goes by as quickly. It’s the only shade you can see the world through. The enchantment of rose bouquets and poetry and heart-shaped candies. That lipstick he enjoys kissing until there’s none left except for what was already on his neck. Better than wrecking your mascara, you say.
Oh, but it’s coming. It’s never forever.
Beyond the spectrum’s end is the devastated, irate heart dripping with glowing molten lava about to combust from a volcano that’s been simmering with rage.
Then it explodes.
And it’s everywhere. Creeping into long forgotten crevices. Setting ablaze everything comfortable and familiar from the years gone by. The flame off a match dropped on to a pile of photographs doused in gasoline and they just go up into nothing like lust into smoke. This is no longer the adoring hue of affection. You’ve been pushed over the edge into pure lava where there’s no coming back and you’ll self-destruct somewhere between empty bottles and shattered dishes you two shared so many dinners on.
It’s the new brand of lipstick you wear after the fact, out to the bar as a rebellion against everything he loved about you, or so he claimed to. It’s the bar lights flickering all around you while he makes out with his new girl in the back of the shadowy room and you’re dancing with your friends with that Cosmopolitan cocktail in your hand, downing the sixth or seventh one to forget him and everything he once was to you.
But it fades. Soon you come to your sense and to see the world in all its other colours again. You revisit the hues you ignored in each sunset for so long because you were only lusting after one. You learn once more that love comes in various other colours. Your favourite flowers. Your best friend’s eyes while you’re both laughing until you cry. That sundress you wear all summer that billows on the wind and makes you feel eloquent even without makeup. The covers of your favourite books. That new paint you picked out for the bedroom because you’ve purged everything of him that used to linger there.
Sometimes it still shows up, and can even make you smile two years down the road. It becomes Valentine’s Day vomit long after you’ve embraced the joys of being single and discount chocolate. The colour of your dog’s favourite bone toy he brings to you when you’re sad or had a rough day. That notebook you’re using to finally plot out that novel you neglected when he was in your life. The cozy mug you drink your coffee from each morning watching the sun rise. The stop lights where you rock out to your favourite song on the radio.
That’s the thing about this colour. It doesn’t always have to be sparking, flaming passion or overflowing rage. It’s in the little things that still represent different forms of love for yourself and the world around you. Love doesn’t end because he walked out the door and you’re still single. It is what picked you up off the floor when you were bawling over not being good enough. It is what stayed up with you nights on end when you were sure you wouldn’t survive this heartbreak. It is what drove you to get up everyday and keep moving on. What now keeps you dancing, singing and not even looking at any of the men in the room because you’ve finally realized just how happy you are on your own.
It doesn’t have to be the only shade through which you see the world.
(This was written from a writing prompt on Tumblr: "Describe the colour red without using the word red." You can follow me on Tumblr @brokenflashbackgypsy )
