I am colored...swirling and everchanging, but mostly light purple and lavender; calm and collect. I am light blue that sparkles in summer sun and the thunderstorms that toss it around, darkening the world. I remember the day I became a light purple, the final change from navy, from grey, from black. A choice, for, as I know, it’s my color.
I was not Emily, bubbly and smiling, I was now red and tear-stricken, angry. My deep blue purpose that controlled my life was now full of waves and currents. I was unfairly prevented from progressing. I thought it was the world, pulling me under the dark blue, forcing me deeper and deeper until I couldn’t take it anymore. But when I thought I’d reached as far down in the dark as I could go, when the calm broke through, I learned that lavender is my own color.
It wasn’t the world forcing the dark blue in me. It wasn’t the world creating the current that pulled me down. It wasn’t the world at all. It was me. It was my mind controlling the thunderstorm that messed with my calm waters.
The salty tears gone, my breath back to normal, and my mind finally cleared, I began to think. I thought about the lavender, the color I so much desired. I thought of the dark blue navy oceans that had been thrust upon me. But mostly I thought of a beautiful deep blue. I loved it. No matter how much I wanted to stray from it, no matter how much I thought I could forget my deep blue, I couldn’t. The deep blue is just as much a part of me as the red blood that pulsed through my veins, fueling my deep blue even more.
I am a current, changing, raging, but sometimes peacefully just being. Through the changes of swirling colors darkening the ocean of my soul, the lavender shines though. I remain the same. The deep blue is my real home. It’s a peaceful place to rejuvenate my thoughts, to bring my mind back to lavender.
Deep blue splashes me in the face, I come back to reality. My face burns like red, yet now a comforting red, like flannel pajamas keeping me warm on a chilly winter night. I look out across the blue, and the lavender in my mind takes over. It’s mine. I love it. I touch my deep blue and the yellow shine of a smile swells up over my face.
My ocean isn’t always the blue of Caribbean waters, nor is it mostly dark, void of any calm in sight. It’s a mix. Sometimes yellow blends in when a new sun peeks over the horizon, like a new beginning finally in sight. Yet sometimes still, life is sucked out of my deep blue altogether. I forget why I love just floating. But then, in the back of my mind, sits my own lavender. It stretches over my mind, my thoughts, controlling me, reminding me.
I am not perfect, nor do I desire to be. I am not one color. I am many. I am the high ups of bright yellow and orange; the lit up faces and wide open smiles. I am the low downs of navy, the deep blue I love blurred by a different kind of water current. But mostly I am lavender. The happy medium between emotions that help no one and the way we all want to feel. Mostly, among my changing waters, I just simply float.